#I tried to make sure girl 2 feels included so none of us would feel lonely

[i-have-a-lot-of-ocs]

Vent below the cut!

I had a friend in 7th grade. We had no other friends and we liked each other. We moved to 8th grade. I met an old classmate from Elementary. I went "Hi!! Come join us!! :D" and we had a "friend group".

They found something in common that I'm not really interested in/understand. They talk about it infront of me without including me nor explain and show the stuff they like. They don't respond unless I talk/approach first. And even then, even though I walked up to them first to start the convo, they usually just respond with short answers. I am practically non-existent! Even though I reserved a spot for them THEY FUCKING REFUSE AND PICK ANOTHER ONE. ALRIGHT THEN. FINE. FUCK YOU. I TRIED SO HARD TO BE THE OUTGOING ONE WHO DOESN'T COMPLAIN WHEN YOU GUYS HAVE FUN TOGETHER BUT YOU ACTIVELY CHOOSE TO NOT ENGAGE WITH ME. FINE. Fine! See how you like it when I ignore the two of you in 9th grade! Go and talk to each other on your own! You don't need me anymore! You have someone else to get together with! I don't need to be here! I'll just sit in the corner and pretend we're strangers! I hope you like it that way! You sure seem to!

[dainangel]

bad decisions

pairing: s.jaeyun x f!reader

also: l.heeseung

warning: mentions of drinking, cheating, suggestive

—> even after a messy breakup, you still found yourself still attracted to jake, and he felt the same. its not a healthy relationship, but how could you both avoid it when it its just too good? 

🎧: greedy, everytime, break up with your girlfriend, motive (ariana grande

author note: holy moly its been a hot minute since ive posted on here!!! anyways, i was listening to ariana so much recently so that is the cause of this writing ✍️

party. get drunk. make up. get down. kiss. say goodbye. repeat. 

that was the continuous pattern you had with none other than jake sim. fate had somehow twisted its ways to urging you to always run into the boy again, again, and again. it was unavoidable, no matter how much you tried. 

3 years ago back in your senior year of high school, jake confessed his huge crush on you right at your front door at night. of course, you felt the same which led to eating each other’s faces off under the dim porch light for your neighbors to see (cough). he loved you, and you loved him. there were bumps and dents through the span of your 2 year relationship, but you couldnt have asked for a better boyfriend. until he took you out to the worst party of your life.

in the moment, the party was amazing and the energy was through the roof. jake’s frat friend was hosting it as his place since his parents were out on vacation, and boy was it a huge home. we’re talking mulitple refrigerators, a movie theatre, gaming room, high balconies, and a jacuzzi on the second floor. after having too much to drink, and talking it up with strangers who were now acquaintances, you realized jake was missing by your side. normally during parties, jake would always follow you around to make sure no one unecessary bothered you, held your cup when you had to use the restroom, and would make the dance floor intimate. concerned, you walked around and through the atmosphere of sweaty bodies and alcohol, looking for any sign of jake. with your red cup slipping out of your hand, you made eye contact with jake in a hallway. making out with a girl. a girl that wasnt you. her back was facing you, but you had to see the abomination of jake going crazy with a random girl near the bathroom. you could feel big globs of salty tears blurring your vision, and your breath hitching immediately. at this point both jake and the girl noticed you, still not letting go of each other’s grasp. when quickly turning around and running off back into the crowd, all you could hear was the yelling of jake, desperate for you to come back. 

that tragic and unforgettable event was 7 months ago. you were eventually immune to jake’s random calls and texts, asking for forgiveness and checking in on you. they didnt feel the same as before, and did not make you feel any better. you ended up blocking him on everything, including deleting his contact information on messages. you were way past this toxic incident, now talking to a guy named heeseung. at your college, you couldnt deny that he was one of the popular guys on the basketball team. although he was basically a himbo and a jock, he was still anything better than jake. 

yet, that didnt stop you from running back to jake himself. he was like a drug you couldnt stop taking, and no matter what you always wanted to come back for more. soon your excuses to go to parties with heeseung werent to get down with him, but  jake. your ex of 2 years now clouded your brain, and even though you never unblocked him on social media- you hoped to see him at multiple parties. and of course, he was always there. 

party after party since the incident, it was the same deal. bring heeseung and let him wander off towards a different group, get drunk with jake, find the nearest bathroom to make out in, get down, and end it all with a sloppy kiss without a verbal goodbye. you never expected to reach this level of insanity, especially with your long-time ex you swore to never go back to. you didnt care how horrible  jake was and how disloyal you were— as long as he was yours for the night. 

you saw him as a toy to be selfish with, using him to your likings. make him feel weak in the knees, and leave him empty handed afterwards. this weird situationship soon blossomed and churned into a possible second chance with the man. 

however, you did not expect to wake up in his bed on a saturday morning so soon. it was just like how it was 3 years ago. turning around to face the other way, jake was wide awake, looking into your eyes with a loving look. you stared back in interest, suddenly feeling a craving to be bad, once more. this obviously wasnt a healthy relationship or whatever this turned into, but you couldnt help it. neither could he. “wanna wanna go for round 2?” jake spoke under his breath. responding with a sly smile, your lips were already locked with his; meanwhile your hand was reaching towards the bedstand to silence the multiple calls from heeseung.

 this was far more important. 

[wutheringmights]

I have to provide some context for this one.

Once a year, some friends and I get together to put on a big powerpoint night. We go hard for these. I usually do a big presentation where I analyze a piece of media. I put a lot of effort into doing the research for these. I once did one on eugenics rhetoric/ideology in My Hero Academia, for context.

This year, I want to do a presentation that tackles the antisemitism and fascist ideology in Attack On Titan. Naturally, this required research. A couple of weeks ago, I was reading an article on Polygon when I read that Attack On Titan has a YA novel spin-off. Not a light novel translated into English. A YA romance novel written by an American author published in English for American audiences.

Huh, I thought. You guys can probably tell by some of my reading choices that I deeply enjoy putting myself through some god-awful books (primarily YA). And one that's a tie-in to an anime I love being a hater for? Sign me up.

I bought myself a used copy and read it the moment it came in the mail.

That's all the context you need. Now that I've covered my ass, let's talk about what I actually think about Garrison Girl by Rachel Aaron.

It's not the worst thing I've ever read. The prose is overall decent, and I can appreciate that the main character has a pretty clear character arc. The best contribution Aaron made to the Attack On Titan series as a whole is a section towards the beginning where she takes about 2-3 pages to just describe how grotesquely horrifying the Titans are. I always thought the Titans were more funny-looking than anything, so this was a much needed improvement.

Everything else... ugh. Where do I start?

First off, the romance with male lead Jax drove me nuts. On paper, it's probably okay. Aaron put in a lot of effort to make sure they started off hating each other before slowly falling in love. Unfortunately, I really don't like Jax as a character. He annoys the hell out of me, and there was one too many times where he forced the main character, Rosalie, to apologize for something she did not need to apologize for.

The plot is largely episodic, theoretically tied together by Rosalie's character arc. By itself, it just feels like a slightly boring set-up for a larger series. It's fine. Some of the antagonistic characters were too cartoonishly evil for my taste, but it at least works. Having a plot that works is a surprisingly tall order, so I will give Aaron credit for that.

But in context of being a story that ties into Attack On Titan...

Attack On Titan is very good at being self-important. It is a very stupid story with some glaring writing flaws that can hide its issues under the veneer of depth and complexity. As long as you do not think about Attack On Titan too hard, it is a fine watch. Then it started including things that you HAVE to think about like eugenics and persecution, and it becomes glaringly obvious that the author has no real idea how any of this stuff works and only cares about the aesthetics of war.

None of that is in Aaron's book. On one hand, THANK GOD. On the other, this doesn't feel like it fits in with anything in the anime. Where are the gruesome, meaningless deaths? Where are the characters waxing poetry over their moral choices? Where are characters doing batshit things that can only be described as "cool as balls"? Aaron tries to squeeze some of this towards the end, but that still means reading 200 pages of lighthearted military exploits.

This just feels ill-conceived.

I have never read anything else by Aaron, but from a quick perusing of her Good Reads account, I don't think I would have picked her to write this. In her Reddit AMA, she says she took the project because she's a big fan of the show. Good for her, but I don't think she did a good job at making something that fits with the show.

But any Attack On Titan tie-in shouldn't be written for teens. An older target demographic would have opened the doors for a lot more of the anime's signature flairs.

I just think the very existence of this book is fascinating. Every time I check out the YA section at B&N, I always see more novels that are part of bigger non-book franchises: Disney princesses, Avatar the Last Airbender, Marvel comics. Whoever decided in ~2016 that American publishing should try to go anime was ahead of their time.

Yet, it seems like this book didn't do well enough to generate a trend. I haven't seen any other anime novels. But anime is more popular and more mainstream than it has ever been. Surely, another attempt will come.

Yet, Attack On Titan is a last of its kind. While anime is hugely popular, none of the big series now are the same ubiquity that early Attack On Titan did. Do you remember 2013 when the show first came out? Everyone was watching it, even non-anime fans. Many of the articles I read credit it as jumpstarting Crunchyroll. They also say that it's the perhaps the last property that every weeb could be expected to have working knowledge of, much like everyone's latent knowledge of Shonen Jump's old Big Three. There is so much variety and options at this point that weebs aren't watching all the same shows anymore. It's the last titan of an old age of anime fandom.

I don't know if anyone will ever attempt a novel tie-in again. Should it happen, then this is a strange, ill-conceived product ahead of its time. Should it not, then this is the most unique and strange attempt to profit off of a mainstream anime.

I hope Alex Aster writes a novel for Naruto. That's the good ending.

[queenimmadolla]

I saw your previous ask about being poc and need to vent about some bs I saw on the dash today. Someone sent an ask to a writer I follow and mentioned the fact that most fan art/moodboard etc inspired by fics in this fandom depict reader as white, saying it’s not their fault it’s just a thing that happens here, and another writer took it upon themselves to interpret that comment as them attacking the writer and blaming them for all of the white washing that happens in this fandom(??) and said all the art being white washed isn’t an issue and then derailed the entire point being made. And whenever a poc tried to step in and be the voice of reason, and point out that it IS an issue, and that the original ask wasn’t attacking that writer, they would get blocked. And ofc they’re just being encouraged by their white writer friends, and instead of focusing on the original point, which is the fact that practically all the fan art in this fandom is white-washed, all these people are derailing entire point trying to say that ask was attacking someone and coming to that writers “defense”. It’s so fucking stupid and it just shows that you can literally VISUALLY SEE that most fanart/moodboard etc in this fandom feature WHITE PEOPLE and point it out but you’ll still get blocked and jumped on. It’s not the most egregious example of this kind of behavior I’ve seen on this site but they were so grossly misinterpreting what was being said, and NONE of their friends tried to step in and reason with them. It makes me wonder why I’m still here when I know if I were to say something I’d be treated the same way. This just doesn’t feel like a safe space at all.

Ah, yes. A prime example of that ignorant unconditional support (again, remember we want to let our friends know when something can be improved or they’re in the wrong so it can be learned from and corrected, not encouraged) and unchecked privilege. I’m gonna have to cut this lol. Gotta number (1-5) my paragraphs so I know if tumblr eats any.

1. I have no idea when this occurred or who was involved, but based on what you said, whoever turned this into a witch hunt against POCs for being upset that writers can’t be a little more open with aesthetics should be ashamed of themselves.

2. This is actually a huge issue in the fandom and I’m glad you brought it up because let’s talk about it! I’m a writer, obviously, and somehow, I manage to not have a bunch of white girls (as I write for fem!reader most of the time) depicted in my aesthetics. Because it’s not that fucking hard to go into Pinterest and not look for white girls. My reader is black, I’ve stated this in my about me section, however I don’t go that into description so multiple races can see themselves in my work! I have no problem finding black!reader aesthetics, but I haven’t used them yet because I do want everyone to feel as though they can read my works, especially if it’s not a fic where I describe reader a lot (if I do describe reader then yeah the fic is getting black girl aesthetics)

3.) diversity is something that can be talked about and should be talked about without white people getting offended (feels like we’re in Big Brother lol). if a white person is taking offense, we might have a problem on our hands because why exactly are they offended about POCs pointing out that we see nothing but a white reader as these aesthetics? hmm…

4.) it’s not hard to make sure people feel included. Its a bit redundant to purposely try not to mention race descriptions (which has improved since I came into this fandom) only to intentionally depict reader as white in the damn aesthetic or mood boards. It’s really not, but what you state you witnessed is why I don’t go around talking to writers willy nilly. It’s why I don’t follow people right away because it’s so, so disappointing to see that they practice passive poc erasure and exclusion, and I understand that it may not be intentional but to get upset and turn it into an attack when it was a moment to educate??? Nope, unfollow. The writers on here I consider my friends, whom I interact with are actually pretty amazing about this. Either they don’t use aesthetics at all (they use gifs of the ST character) or they use multiple girls of the aesthetic they’re going for (I see a white girly girl aesthetic, a brown skinned girly girl aesthetic, and a dark skinned girly girl aesthetic in the same fics and mood boards!) or they simply don’t care to ensure the reader they want to depict in those aesthetics is always white so I see dark skinned girls, brown skins girls and white girls in rotation of those aesthetics!

5.) exclusion is something they do not face, which is why they don’t care. if you attempt to educate them, and they react the way you said they reacted, I’d just dump them. I’d of course bring up the occurrence when talking about the topic for the rest of eternity because I’m petty and they gave me the perfect example, but if they don’t want to step out of their privileged bubble and go on the offense to ensure they can remain in their ignorance is bliss mindset, then I don’t want ‘em. There’s plenty of other writers willing to make sure you feel included and are willing to learn, without dogpiling on you like that 🩷

[primatechnosynthpop]

If You Push Them Too Hard, They're Going To Break

Part 4

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

The next few weeks were surreal to say the least. By day, Jemaine and Bret carried on with their regular lives. By night they performed to moderate success at bars, clubs, auditoriums, corporate events-- not public libraries or elevators. None of their gigs drew in huge numbers, but the numbers they drew went beyond single digits. And they always got paid.

Mel was never in the crowd, of course. Neither was Doug, which Jemaine felt a bit betrayed by whereas Bret didn't really notice or care. He could have showed up to support them, Jemaine thought, to pay tribute to his wife's legacy. People applauded, but never with the volume or enthusiasm Mel used to, nor did fans approach them with anywhere near her level of zeal. In fact, hardly anyone approached them at all. People just showed up, watched them play, and left. It was disconcerting. They'd always thought if they ever succeeded, their loyal fan would be there to cheer them on, gushing about how proud she was that her guys had finally made it.

"It's too bad," Jemaine remarked once while they were backstage, tuning his bass in preparation to perform. "I could've included her in my wish if I'd remembered."

"Maybe Doug can make a contract," Bret suggested. "If he wants to bring her back."

Jemaine grimaced and shook his head. "No, Doug would make a terrible magical girl."

There was still a familiar face who cropped up amidst the crowds, though. Dave usually sat near the back, hoping to come off as aloof and not make it seem like he was overly invested in the band's performance. They may have been moving up in the world, but he still had a reputation to uphold. But by the end of the night he'd be pointing up at the stage and proclaiming to anyone in earshot, "Hey, I knew these guys before they were famous. If you wanna hear any stories about 'em, just ask me-- although, fair warning, they're boring as hell except the parts where I show up."

They weren't famous even now, really-- nobody talked about them on the street or on social media, and there was still no sign of a record deal. But if Dave wanted to call them famous, they weren't going to correct him.

"I always knew you guys would hit the big time someday," he told them one night after a performance that was successful but not too successful as always. He poured each of them a drink and slid the glasses across the bar counter toward them. The drink in question was just water, but Bret and Jemaine took it without complaint because they didn't really feel like alcohol anyway. "I guess some of my advice must have finally paid off."

"Oh, uh, I don't know about that," Bret admitted. "It was mostly because Jemaine did something you told us not to do."

"Bret, we don't need to tell him that."

"What? Did you guys get your big break by going on a date with each other's exes or... shit, what else have I told you not to do?" Dave scratched his head, pushing his bandana askew. "Or, wait, is this about the whole gay thing? Listen, I never actually said you couldn't be gay. It's just that if you were, chicks wouldn't be--"

"It's not a gay thing," Jemaine cut him off. He took a sip of water, shooting Bret a dirty look over the rim of the glass, which Bret was oblivious to because he was also sipping water and doing it with his eyes closed for some reason. "It has to do with magical girls. And one of us becoming one."

"Yeah, no shit, you already told me Bret's a magical girl."

"No, I mean... another one of us. Both of us, now, we're magical girls."

"Oh." Dave squinted at Jemaine's hand, and sure enough, there was one of those rings just like Bret had. "Well, fuck, man."

Jemaine, sensing how much the mood had immediately soured, tried weakly to steer it back to cheerful. "It's not so bad. Better than I thought it would be. I like my costume."

Dave didn't say anything to that. He didn't know what to say. So two of his friends had basically thrown their lives away? After all the bullshit advice he made up on the spot to impress them, this was the time they decided not to listen. The one time he actually had a real, serious warning, and they ignored it. Well, shit. What could you say to that?

Instead of responding, he chugged his own drink (not water) and let his gaze stray around the bar. There were people dancing, a couple hot chicks, but none that got him too excited. He thought he spotted Murray in a corner trying to chat up a couple guys in suits, but the suits didn't look interested in whatever he was saying. People had been singing along when Jemaine and Bret got up there and played their lame nerd-ass songs, but nobody was approaching them now. That was weird. Didn't there used to be someone who was always on their dicks?

"What happened to that psycho chick, anyway?" he muttered. "The one who wants to fuck you guys so bad it makes her look stupid."

Jemaine and Bret exchanged a glance, their faces jarringly solemn. Bret looked more pensive, while Jemaine seemed resigned. Now it was Dave's turn to realize he'd asked the wrong question. But, to their credit, they answered him anyway.

"Mel's not around anymore," said Jemaine.

Bret sighed, staring down into the cup of water in his hands. "She turned into a witch and we had to kill her."

Jemaine turned to Bret with as much incredulity as Dave did. Both said "What?" almost in unison, though with Jemaine's much flatter delivery you'd never know he was equally taken aback.

"You didn't mention she became a witch," said Jemaine.

"Didn't I?"

"No, you didn't. When did that happen?"

"Oh, sorry, I thought I mentioned it. It was the time Murray died."

"What?"

"Murray fucking died?" Dave interjected. "But he's standing right over there."

"Yeah, but then-- you know, your wish, Jemaine..." Bret gestured vaguely, cheeks colouring with embarrassment as he realized how poorly he was explaining himself. He really thought he'd been over this, but obviously it had slipped his mind. "Anyway, he is alive now, but Mel's not because she became a witch."

"I don't believe this," Jemaine muttered.

"Sorry, man, I just--"

"Not you," he clarified. "Kyubey. It didn't say anything about people turning into witches. We might have wanted to know that before making contracts with it."

"See, that's why-- I fucking told you New Guinea morons not to be magical girls!" Dave snapped, slamming his glass down on the bar. The drinks had gone to his head a little, and he knew he wasn't being cool and he'd regret blowing up like this later, but fuck, he was pretty sure he was allowed to be mad about this right now. "Rule number one of making a deal, you wanna know shit about what you're getting into. That means you ask questions before giving anything up, because if you get scammed, nobody's gonna give you a refund."

"...Sorry, Dave."

"We're from New Zealand. But yeah, sorry, Dave."

"Yeah, whatever." He took one last swig of his drink even though it tasted like shit now. "Just don't die, okay? And if you do, don't say I didn't warn you."

*

On the nights they didn't have gigs, they fought witches, which was only a slightly bigger change of pace than the gigs.

Bret ran through a twisting Parisian street, occasionally shooting at the witch towering above him. The familiars, fancy woman-shaped dolls dressed up in scarves and berets, had Jemaine surrounded. They were speaking in some garbled language he couldn't understand. It made his head ache. He beat them back with a nunchuck in each hand, one wood and one metal.

The ground shook as one of the witch's giant metal legs came crashing down inches from where Bret had been a moment ago. The witch was dressed the same as its familiars, but instead of a doll body it had the body of a full-size eiffel tower. Bret, tired of running, ducked into the closest building that had a working door-- a library. He ducked between two bookshelves, where he hid until the thundering steps from outside faded away and he could relax with the knowledge that the witch had passed him by.

<Jemaine,> he called out telepathically. <Where are you? I'm in a library.>

It took a moment for Jemaine to respond, and Bret briefly wondered if his friend might have been hurt or worse. But luckily his response came through eventually. <I think I'm in a dance hall. Are you sure you're in the same labyrinth as me?>

<Pretty sure,> Bret replied. He stepped out of his library shelter and looked across the ravaged street. Through a window on the opposite side of the street, he could see Jemaine standing in a discotheque with his back turned, one hand on his hip and the other near his ear like he was making a phone call. Bret's lips quirked in amusement. <Yeah, I can see you from here. Turn around.>

It was bad timing, however, as just then the witch turned around and came charging down the road at Bret again. He ducked inside another building, this time a swimming pool, just as Jemaine turned around.

<I don't see you,> Jemaine said with a frown. <Are you messing with me?>

<I'm not messing with you.>

<You can't do that if we're going to be magical girls together. We have to be a team.>

Bret just rolled his eyes without responding to that remark and lined up a shot through a window. He wanted to see if he could knock the beret right off that witch's head.

-

They'd been in this city-themed labyrinth for what felt like hours now and hadn't found the witch. Neon signs pulsed, the buildings seemed to press in tighter every minute, and a periodically shifting landscape kept them running back and forth across the same streets with no sense of direction. Bret fired arrows wildly into the air, while Jemaine slumped against a cold concrete wall to catch his breath.

There was a shifting sound, and they turned in unison to see a familiar shuffling toward them. It was a humanoid figure dressed like a store clerk, but its body was cobbled together out of muesli. Jemaine cocked an eyebrow at it. His stomach grumbled despite himself-- he hadn't eaten yet-- and Bret gave him an incredulous look.

"What?" he said defensively. "Witches eat humans. Maybe we could start eating their familiars. Even things out a little."

Bret just shook his head. He drew back an arrow and fired it off, but it sailed right through the familiar and didn't even slow it down. Jemaine glanced behind them to see a second one coming up a hill. He tightened his grip on his own weapon and stood behind Bret facing the opposite way so their backs were almost touching.

"What are you doing that for?" Bret asked.

"It's a cool pose," Jemaine explained. "We're like a battle couple."

"We're not a couple."

"I know, that's why I said 'like'. We're just a couple of... battlers."

Bret shrugged. "Alright. Whatever, man."

While Bret's arrows proved ineffective against the familiars, a few whacks from Jemaine's nunchucks made them crumble away. Soon Bret ducked out of the battle altogether and sat down on a fire escape to watch while Jemaine finished them off. Jemaine wasn't pleased with that. He was about to hassle Bret about abandoning him when he felt something shift underfoot.

"Augh, what's that?"

"What's what?" Bret asked, but then he felt it too a moment later. The streets were moving again-- but not just moving. The pavement was contracting and expanding like a beating heart. "Oh, wow. That's freaky."

There was a theory forming in his mind, and he motioned for Jemaine to move out of the way so he could test it. Jemaine didn't need any prompting to take several steps back when he saw Bret lining up a shot. His confidence in his friend's skills had improved drastically since they started fighting together, but he still wasn't keen on taking risks.

Bret fired straight down, and a thick oily substance spurted up from the crack that his arrow split in the pavement. The ground shook and they heard a bellowing sound from below. Jemaine stumbled, momentarily losing his footing, while Bret smirked at the confirmation of his suspicion: the witch had been right under their feet all along.

-

While Bret leapt from rocky crag to rocky crag dodging crashing waves and picking off familiars, Jemaine grappled with a witch in the form of a giant mutated seagull. After a lot of hard work and struggle he'd managed to get up on its back and now he had his nunchucks around its throat, strangling it. Things were looking good until Jemaine felt a sudden chill and looked up to see a piano falling at him from the sky.

"Bret," he yelped, jerking back and letting go of the witch in shock. Now free, it shook him off and took to the sky again with a flap of its wings and a screech. "There's a piano...!"

Bret either didn't hear him over the crash of the waves or ignored him. He just kept studiously shooting down the feathery hands that periodically shot up from the water. Now that the witch was free it took a dive for him too, but he scared it away with a couple arrows that missed by a wide margin but made for good warning shots.

The piano was too big to dodge in time, so Jemaine raised his nunchucks to block it. The corner of the piano balanced precariously on the slim metal chain between the two wooden sticks, which groaned and threatened to buckle under the weight.

<Bret,> Jemaine called with more insistence, using telepathy this time despite his misgivings about the mode of communication. <I could use a little help.>

Bret paused, lowering his bow, and looked over. "What is it?"

"This piano is going to crush me," Jemaine explained tersely. His arms and legs were already wobbling from having to keep it balanced above his head, and something deeper in his core ached from the concentrated magic power required to keep his nunchucks intact while committing this implausible feat. "You need to move it out of the way."

"Ohh, yeah," Bret said, nodding. "Yeah, I can do that, hold on."

He raised a hand, which glowed the colour of his magic, and the same glow spread to the piano as it gently lifted into the air. As soon as the weight vanished from Jemaine's arms, he wasted no time getting well out from under the piano.

"You could've done that sooner," Jemaine remarked as he jumped up on a rocky ledge to join Bret.

"I was busy."

"I almost died. Would you have been busy then?"

Bret shrugged, unbothered, because he hadn't been paying attention and thought Jemaine was exaggerating. One corner of his mouth pulled up in a smirk. "I guess I'd be busy finding a replacement roommate."

Jemaine grumbled about how impossible it was to work with Bret as the two of them worked in tandem to bring down the witch. He caught the witch's leg in his nunchucks, Bret shot a few arrows through each of its wings to bring it down, and it was finished in less than a minute.

*

Jemaine couldn't get used to the sensation of sleeping in jewelry, so he took to keeping his soul gem on the nightstand beside his glasses overnight. One evening when they were getting ready for bed, he was struck with an odd sort of ticklish sensation and looked over to see Bret sitting up in bed inspecting his soul gem.

"What are you doing with that, Bret?"

"Oh, I was just trying to figure out the shape of your soul gem," Bret said. "Like how mine's an animal. I can never tell its shape when you're transformed because it's stuck inside that flower. The petals get in the way."

"Does it matter?"

He shrugged. "It's interesting. Says something about a person, I think."

Jemaine sat down on the edge of his own bed and leaned forward, cupping his chin in his hand. It wasn't something he paid attention to himself, but that assertion had him curious. "Oh yeah? What's Murray's, then?"

Bret pursed his lips, rocking back and forth in his cross-legged position. "A pen or pencil, I think. It's got that, you know, sort of shape..."

He indicated the shape he meant by gesturing with his hands.

"Are you sure that's not a phallic symbol?" Jemaine asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mm..." Bret narrowed his eyes, lips screwing to the side, and shook his head. "No, I don't think it's that."

"Right, I guess it wouldn't be. I don't know if Murray even has a dick."

"He has one."

"Oh yeah?" Jemaine challenged. "Have you seen it?"

Bret gave him an odd look. "No. Have you?"

"No, but with the way you ran up and hugged him that time, I thought maybe there was something you weren't telling me."

Bret rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe Jemaine was still hung up on that. Rather than dignify that comment with a response, he flopped over onto his back and resumed inspecting the soul gem and the little symbol on top. Out of nowhere it hit him.

"Oh, I know. It's a pair of lips."

"...Pardon?"

"Your soul gem," he explained, holding it out for Jemaine to see. "It's shaped like a pair of lips. Your lips, I'd imagine."

"Aw, is that really it?" Jemaine looked skeptical and vaguely disappointed as Bret handed the soul gem over to him. He transformed in a flash of light, then plucked the gem out of his flower accessory and examined it. In that form it was much easier to tell... and yes, it looked like Bret was right. "That's probably because I kiss so many people," he said unconvincingly. "Especially women. Entirely women, actually."

"Or it could be because you've got a big mouth," Bret suggested with a smirk.

Jemaine scoffed and gave Bret a gentle shove. It was supposed to be gentle, anyway. He forgot he had the strength of a magical girl now. Bret went rolling off the bed, and upon climbing back up, transformed into his magical girl costume just to shove Jemaine back.

It quickly escalated into a lighthearted war, the two both ending up on Bret's bed rolling around and pushing each other. Jemaine won out in the end. He was the physically stronger of the two, and not even Bret's fancy agility would let him wriggle out from under a pair of large hands that had each of his arms firmly pinned down. Jemaine panted to catch his breath, a sheen of sweat coating his brow as he stared down into Bret's wide eyes...

Bret let out a startled yelp at the sound of their bedroom door swinging open. He drew his legs up and threw his arms around himself like he was naked despite being fully clothed. The reaction made Jemaine jump too as the way the situation looked caught up to him. Kyubey stood calmly in the doorway, staring at them.

"Agh! Did you see all that just now? That wasn't... we weren't..."

<I was under no false pretenses about your activities,> Kyubey replied levelly. <As a species driven by calculations rather than emotion, I do not make unreasonable assumptions as humans often do.>

"Even if we had been doing anything," Jemaine said against his best interests, "Bret's a magical girl, so..."

"No, I'm a magical man," Bret corrected him. "You're a magical girl."

"Yes, either way it's like one of us is a girl, sort of... like we're both girls, really... so if we were to do anything, it wouldn't be gay," Jemaine flawlessly concluded his thought. "Not that we were. But if we did."

Kyubey found that logic deeply questionable, as it did with the complexities of many human emotions, but said nothing as it glanced back and forth between the musicians. Bret had shuffled to one end of his bed and was sitting hunched over, staring at the floor. Jemaine was at the opposite end of the bed but had yet to retreat to his own, in a simulacrum of a casual pose but with his neck twisted at an uncomfortable angle so he could look as far away from Bret as possible. Both their faces had turned a deep red.

"Kyubey," Bret said slowly, "Could you please leave the room? I'd like to talk with Jemaine alone for a bit."

That got Jemaine's attention. He looked back at Bret, blinking in surprise. "You... you would?"

His eyes asked more questions than he was willing to voice aloud, and Bret gave him a shy smile and dip of his head that answered them. Kyubey nodded its assent and politely trotted out of the room. Of course it could still listen in on them from any distance, but they didn't need to know that.

And whatever happened once that door was closed was confidential business that could only be disclosed in a private magical girl meeting.

[Part 5]

[angstysebfan]

The Past Can Break You - 1

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

AU: Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?

A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered... what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.

--

If someone asked you what you loved about being an Avenger, you would definitely say the people. Not even the people you save, but the other members of your team who have become your family. See, you didn’t have a family growing up, and when Tony brought you into the Avengers you had no idea that he was also bringing you into the family.

Sam, Steve, and Thor were your big brothers, always protective. Natasha and Wanda were your best friends and sisters. Tony was definitely a father figure to you as well as one of your favorite people in the world. Bruce and Vision were two very good friends that you knew you could always count on. And Scott was the funniest person on the planet and always made you laugh.

But none of them compared to Bucky. When you first joined the avengers Bucky was new too. You guys became very close friends and eventually developed a very loving relationship. He was nervous at first to ask you out because it had been so long since he dated anyone. When he was back in the 40s he was definitely a ladies man but now he was more reserved and shy, which you didn’t mind.

Before you started dating he did tell you about his first love, Dot. You knew that she was his first love and tried not to be jealous of a woman from the 40s, and you tried not to compare his love to her to his love for you. You knew he missed her, but hopefully now that he was dating you, not as much, as selfish as that sounds.

You now have been dating Bucky for 2 1/2 years, and it’s safe to say that he is the love of your life. You both moved into the same room and spend as much time together as possible when you’re not on missions. In fact you’re out with Natasha and Wanda right now getting a special gift to wear tonight with Bucky.

“What’s the occasion for this again?” Natasha asked.

“Oh nothing, just feel like making him feel special,“ you say with a wink. Both girls rolled her eyes at you and continue searching for the perfect lingerie for you to wear for him.

When you got back to the compound you walk to the common room with your new purchase super excited to show your soldier later.  you see everyone standing around staring at this big contraption that’s now in the middle of the common room. You walk up and stand next to your boyfriend staring at both the contraption and Tony who looks super excited.

“What the hell is this?“ you ask. 

Tony looks at you and see the excitement in his eyes like a kid on Christmas. “I’m not sure. I found it in the archives when I was looking for something. I thought we could all open it up together,” her says.

You look at your boyfriend who gives you a shrug of his shoulders and a smirk, “He has been like this for a half hour,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer, kissing the top of your head.

“Where were you off to?” He asks, ignoring the commotion for a moment.

“Oh just picking up something for you… for me to wear… in bed.. tonight,” you say.

You see Bucky’s eyes darken as he leans closer to you, “well can’t wait to see it and rip it off of you then, Doll,” he whispers in your ear before placing his lips on yours.

You giggle as you then lean your head toward Tony and the contraption. You see Tony pressing a few buttons before some air or steam come out the top and the door opens. When the steam clears you all see there is a woman inside who appears to still be alive.

“It’s a cryogenic chamber!” Tony shouted in excitement.

Everyone stepped back to give whoever was in the chamber a few moments to awaken and come out slowly. After they clambered out you realized it was a red headed woman. You hear Bucky’s breath hitch as you all get a look at her face. Suddenly the woman looks at Bucky.

“Jamie?!” She asked.

You look at your boyfriend who is in shock looking at the woman before him. His hand around your waist falls away from you as he starts to step toward her.

“Dot? Is… is that really you?” He asks in amazement.

Suddenly your own breath hitches as you realize that your boyfriend is looking at his first love. The woman you felt you had to compare to. The one you thought he would never see again. She was now in your living room staring at Bucky in disbelief.

“I thought you were dead! How are you alive?” She asks.

“It’s a long story,Doll. One I’ll have to tell you later,” he says as he smirks at her.

She reaches out and pulls him toward her in a strong hug. Your heart slowly begins to break as you feel completely helpless, and selfish at the same time. You see all your friends, Steve included, are giving looks of sympathy.

You start taking slow steps back, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. You stumble and stop though when you see her kiss him. Your heart is officially obliterated. No way will you stand a chance next to Dot.

Bucky had his first love back. He didn’t need you anymore. You quickly turned away and leave the room: no one calls for you, letting you go. Bucky and Dot don’t even notice.

Bucky pulls away from Dot, “I’m sorry, I can’t. There is so much we need to talk about, but I can’t…”

He trails off as he finally turns toward the room and sees that you are gone. He feels terrible and steps away from Dot.

“You should go down and see Bruce. Get checked out. I’ll meet you down there. I just have to check on something first,” Bucky says.

Dot grabs his hand, “Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone,” she begs.

Steve steps up, “I’ll go with you Dot. Bucky will meet us down there,” he says.

Bucky gives his best friend a thankful smile before nodding at Dot and turning toward your shared room. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know what to think. All he knew is that he was at a crossroads where one or all of the participants will get hurt.

He was terrified.

- -

Chapter 2

Ok so as I said up top, I always wondered what would happen if Bucky’s 40s gf came back while he was dating someone else. I feel for both reader and Bucky in this situation because this is a tough situation. Looking forward to writing it! Feedback is appreciated!

Permanent Taglist:  @hailmary-yramliah @tuiccim @comedictragedy @cap-n-stuff @thefridgeismybestie @swiftmind @aleaisntcreative @lookimtrying @pinknerdpanda @morganclaire4 @iamvalentinaconstanza @verygraphicink @im-squished @joannie95 @peace-love-hobbitness @connie326 @amandamdiehl @harrysthiccthighss @its-izzys @roserose26 @rebekahdawkins @elegantobservationstudentsblog @broco8 @shinykoalacat @white-wolf1940 @jessyballet

[todoscript]

SEQUEL TO  “don’t forget it”

SYNOPSIS: One week after accidentally blowing you off on your date, Bakugou Katsuki seeks your forgiveness.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff, very little angst

word count: 5.4k+

warnings: none really accept maybe a character sustaining an injury

author’s note: hellooooo this is a very very very late part 2 of my don’t forget it drabble that many people asked for! i hope this lived up to your expectations and was worth the wait!

Since the events that led you to leave Bakugou’s room in a fit of bitterness after attempting to penetrate that thick head of his, he hadn’t been able to speak to you for a week.

It goes without saying he did his best to chase you down the hallway from his room and toward the elevator the moment he realized his faults. But at the stink eye you shot him through the minimizing slit of the elevator doors sliding into place, he knew he had no right to reconcile with you after pulling a stunt like that. Nor did he think you’d want to spare him any more words to begin with. It was clear you were done arguing with him.

“C’mon man, it’s probably best to let her cool down before you try to make up with her,” was the advice Kirishima offered when Bakugou returned to his room, disgruntled as he heavily fell back into his seat next to the desk. He did the bare minimum to acknowledge his friend’s words with a grunt before resuming tutoring the redhead, his method of teaching suddenly harsher than how it began thanks to his soured mood. He lapsed the day away by pounding Kirishima with problems upon problems against that hard noggin of his, both literally and figuratively.

At the very least, Kirishima earned himself a passing grade on their exam as a result of his hard work and their rigorous tutoring sessions. But what followed Bakugou’s and your relationship was still undetermined.

Days later and you were relentless in giving him the cold shoulder.

Bakugou was met with nothing but empty glances and blatant disinterest whenever he crossed your path. It felt like the wall you slotted between him grew another layer at each encounter, your defenses so impenetrable, it could give Kirishima’s quirk a run for its money. He couldn’t so much as utter a word in your direction without you effectively dodging every possible interaction in favor of joining another conversation nearby.

At first, Bakugou shrugged it off, calling your “childish attitude” unwarranted for something he thought was incredibly trivial. In his eyes, it was just an ordinary date at some run-of-the-mill restaurant he just happened to suggest to you because he took a liking to their spicy food. Not like it was some fancy dinner reservation serving caviar on dry toast beside a pretty, city night skyline. To him, it was nothing special.

However, as the week continued to roll by, it became clear to him how much he hurt you due to his selfishness. In a hangout with the Bakusquad, he learned that you apparently told Mina, along with the rest of the girls, everything during one of your girls’ nights. Which included the events prior to your heated argument in Bakugou’s dorm. And Mina, being just as peeved as you were at how Bakugou stood you up that day, had to let the blond know of the damage he’d done.

.

.

“I swear, Bakugou Katsuki, I know you can be an asshole sometimes—”

“Make that all the time,” Sero quietly adds in the middle of Mina’s rant while he lounges backward on Kaminari’s bed. If it wasn’t for his current dilemma, Bakugou would have elbowed him in the back of the head.

“—but this is crossing the line!” she finishes. Her arms are thrown exaggeratedly over her chest. The amber surrounded by the black scleras of her eyes points a beady look at the ash-blond crisscrossed on the floor between Kirishima and Kaminari.

“Poor girl sat there for hours waiting for you, only to find out she got blown off because you couldn’t even properly check your reminders!” She paces back and forth in the room, feet excessively stepping across the floor as she’s engulfed by the emotions she feels for her friend. “What’s worse? She comes back and finds out you’ve been doing your own thing with Kirishima the whole time!”

“Hey! It’s not like we were playing around! We were actually having a very serious study grind, thank you very much,” the redhead immediately clarifies. Though his explanation doesn’t alleviate Bakugou’s case in the slightest, who pounds his palms against the surface of the table they’ve gathered around.

“Look. I fucking get it, Ashido. I screwed up, okay?! Now what the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” he exclaims, anger overpowering his voice, but it does little to deter Mina.

“Fix it, obviously!” she quips back with equal fierceness, leaning in eye level with Bakugou.

“And how do you propose I do that, Raccoon Eyes? Hah?” Repositioning his elbow to rest on the table, he leans his cheek against his hand. “Y/n won’t even let me within five fucking feet in front of her and you still expect me ‘fix this’?”

Despite the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders, no immediate answer is bestowed upon him. That is, except the obnoxiously loud crinkle of a chip bag popping open next to Bakugou that cleaves into the scene like a record scratch. As if unable to read the mood in his own room, Kaminari fishes a chip to throw in his mouth, stirring the awkward silence into tension.

“Wow, Bakugou. I know you’re bad with girls and all, but you really messed up this time,” he remarks. His voice is slightly muffled as he munches his chips, continuing to wrinkle the bag for more. It incites a vein to swell on Bakugou’s forehead. He amasses all the willpower within him not to blast the bag of chips to ash, and the boy alongside it.

“If you dunce faces are just gonna sit here and throw salt in my wound then I’m outta here.”

“No, wait!” Kirishima catches Bakugou’s wrist before he fully lifts himself off the floor. “Come on, Bakugou, I’m sure we can think of something! We just need to put our heads together! Right, guys?” he assures. Finding it hard to deny his friend’s hardened conviction, Bakugou gives Kirishima the benefit of the doubt, albeit with slumped shoulders and a tentative raise of his brow as he slowly sits back down.

“Right! Everyone, let’s get some brainstorming done!” Mina yells encouragingly.

The atmosphere of Kaminari’s room is consumed by moderately thoughtful silence for the next ensuing minutes. A few hums pass, followed by an exchange of contemplative looks as four of the five rack their heads together to uncover a solution. The one in need of help only hunches in his seat, waiting with mild disinterest.

“Oh hey, don’t we have hero training with All Might tomorrow?” Sero is the first to comment, scooting to the edge of the blond’s bed.

“Yeah. So?”

“He said we were going to work on group exercises this time around. You know, teamwork and stuff,” he explains further.

At that, Mina snaps her fingers, the work of a brilliant idea flickering in her head. “Sero, that’s it! Tomorrow, during training, we’ll just form a group together with Y/n! After all, she’ll have to talk to Bakugou if you two are on the same team!” She claps her hands in front of her, her enthusiasm rippling through her body and shown energetically with each raise of her voice. “Then, while the rest of us ‘split up’ to cover more ground, that will be your chance to make everything better with Y/n! It’s genius!”

“You missed one fucking crucial detail, Pinky,” Bakugou gruffs. “That will only work if Y/n doesn’t join another group. The moment she sees I’m on yours, she’s not even going to hesitate making a u-turn.”

“Worry not~ I’ll just text all the girls except Y/n about the plan later and ask them to help sort everyone out!” She solves the problem with relative ease—quick as a click of her phone lighting up and finger sliding open to her messages.

“Uh, another thing though.” Kirishima raises his hand to spare his concern. “All Might says we’ll be splitting into groups of five at most, but there’s already five of us here.”

There’s a brief moment of deadpanning until Mina speaks casually. “Oh, that’s right. Kaminari. Take one for the team and make sure to join another group, ‘kay?” She settles without batting a lash.

Kaminari almost chokes on a mouthful of chips. “H-Huh?! What?! Why me?!!” he sputters.

“Because you’ve been eating chips this entire time and haven’t contributed to anything.”

“Hey, I offered the room, didn’t I?!” He tries justifying but is inevitably rejected by Mina’s wagging finger.

“Ah-ah, no complaints! Besides, it’s only one day of training. If we want this dilemma between Bakugou and Y/n fixed then we all have to play our part, got it?” Mina finalizes with a firm point of her finger nearly grazing the tip of the blond’s nose as he leans back to avoid it, eyebrows scrunched in discontent at the role he’s been reduced to.

“Alllllright!” Kirishima springs from his seat with outstretched arms and tightened fists. “Operation: Get Y/n to Forgive Explosion Boy is underway!”

“Dude, that’s a terrible name!” Sero laughs but rises from the bed to join the redhead’s cheer alongside Mina, the group already in high spirits.

Despite rolling his eyes at their swell of confidence, Bakugou does not object to the state of things. As crazy as it sounds, one could almost decipher the cusp of a grin pulling the seams of his lips as a possible sign he’s actually all for this extravagant little plan. Quite a first for Bakugou, but then again, there’s not much else he can do in this situation except rely on his pack of chumps.

Meanwhile, Kaminari grumbles something beneath the salty grit between his teeth.

“Alright, can you all get out of my room now?”

.

.

The scowl etched on your face carries a strong air of disdain that dampens the mood around your teammates considerably. Well, no one should be surprised. With Bakugou standing across from you, staring into the void of your expression, it’s to be expected that you wouldn’t be happy with this outcome.

No, “unhappy” doesn’t quite do your circumstance justice. You are beyond livid.

You feel your eyebrow twitch as you try quivering your lips to form a tinge of a smile. Unfortunately, all that quickly falls apart when you suddenly recall the disaster of last week, triggered by an accidental glance at Bakugou’s mug.

Trying to simmer down, you release a mental sigh amidst the turmoil boiling inside you.

Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating. Maybe you’re still just a bit too bitter for your own good and letting your emotions get to you. But in a class of twenty or some students, how did you end up in a group with the one person you were actively trying to avoid?

The moment All Might gave everyone the go-ahead to form their teams for today’s training exercise, you swiftly made a beeline toward two particular star students. Midoriya and Todoroki.

It was simple really. Your experiences throughout the school year told you Bakugou planned on staying away from his rivals when it came to teamwork, regardless of whether you’re there or not. He’s a competitive ass whose goal is to beat anyone he deems a threat in his climb to be the number one hero. It’s only logical you partner with people he adamantly dislikes to evade him.

Yet it seems fate has other plans for you today. By the time you found yourself pacing over to the two students you had in mind, they’d already gone and picked their own group members, forming teams before you could even ask.

Your nose wrinkles like you’ve taken a whiff of something rancid. Or, to be more specific, something fishy. Hooking an arm around Mina’s elbow, you drag the pink-haired girl off to a corner somewhere while tilting your head back at the three other boys.

“Ex. Cuse. Us.” Your words sound as stiff as cardboard. It comes out in practically a hiss when your eyes cross Bakugou. Once you’re positive you’re out of earshot, you whip your head at Mina.

“Mina, what the hell? When you dragged me over here to form a group with you you didn’t tell me he’d be there,” you groan. Childish and petty as you may sound, you just couldn’t fathom the idea of confronting the boy so soon.

Mina holds her hands out, ready to rationalize the whole ordeal. “C’mon Y/n, this is actually an advantage for us! With us four plus you on our team, we’re sure to knock the rest of the other guys out during training today! I mean we showed pretty good teamwork together at the sports festival, didn’t we?”

Steadying your gaze, you hold a finger below your chin as you slowly buy into the explanation. The reasoning is there. It’s hard to argue against a case like that, fully aware that being on the same team as explosion boy will easily snag good results for you and your party. ‘Cause as much of an arrogant jerk as he is, you have to admit Bakugou Katsuki knows his way around hero action like the back of his grenade gauntlets.

“Besides it’s not like you could avoid him for the entire school year. I mean, you two are in the same class. It was only a matter of time before you had to—”

“I know, Mina,” you interject, not wanting the rest of her sentence about the inevitable fall to your ear. “I just… Agh, you know what I mean!” You ruffle your hands through your hair in confliction, unsure how to piece your thoughts together.

Tilting your head over Mina’s shoulder, you sneak a glimpse at Bakugou, watching him as he’s cast to the side with the others. He’s fending himself from Kirishima and Sero’s combined jokes, that usual look on his face sending glares at the two and yelling something you could almost pick up on if you honed your ears a bit more. Surprisingly, when his eyes meet yours for a split second, he stands there looking nonchalant again. Both of you immediately avert your gazes.

Mina pats your shoulder, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know, but after this, I’m sure you can go back to ignoring his ass. After all, it’s just one training exercise, right?” she says. As her words deliver some relief to your ill-timed situation, you give in with a sigh.

Unbeknownst to you, turning your back to Mina and striding toward the rest of your teammates again, you miss the small glint in her yellow eyes, along with the subtle gestures she aims at the three boys, waving her pointed thumbs over your head secretively.

“So I take it you’re on the team with us, Y/n?” Sero asks when the two of you return. You nod in reply and the boy flashes his pearly whites in a wide grin that Kirishima mirrors. He nudges Bakugou at his sides which you subtly catch in the far corner of your eye.

You raise a brow suspiciously at their fidgeting, wondering why having you on their team warrants such enthusiasm, but you’re thankful for their energy at least. Someone has to lift the atmosphere for this not to be a complete drag and Bakugou surely isn’t going to be the mood maker of the group.

The blond scoffs. “Yeah, well, if you dumbasses are going to form a team with me, you’ll follow under my leadership, got it?”

The three readily agree. Though you roll your eyes, you don’t challenge his position, considering no one else is that much up to the task as he is. You’ll simply have to deal with the fact that you’re forced to tread through the day under his leadership. So with no objections, the five of you walk back to the class, gathering around the entrance of today’s battlefield.

Jumping into the activity, All Might goes about explaining today’s lesson to the four sets of teams—consisting of a group exercise to heighten teamwork. The name of the game? Capture the flag.

In short, each team will be split off into different sections of the labyrinth where their assigned flag is stationed. The objective is to not only protect your flag from being stolen but also try and steal an opposing team’s flag from their base and escort it safely to your home field. Nice and simple.

Not long after All Might’s explanation, the gate to the training grounds opens and you all scatter off into your teams, navigating through the twists of the maze to locate your flags. Once your group situated themselves onto your home base, you assemble in a huddle to devise a strategy before the game starts.

“So what’s the plan?” Kirishima asks, eyes darting around his teammates until they rest on Bakugou—the team leader. The ash-blond crosses his arms, a confident sneer plastered on his face as he’s already thought of his plan of action the moment All Might announced the mission.

“Easy. I’m going straight to the front-lines to swipe one of those dumbasses’ flags. You lot are gonna stay here and guard ours until I come back.” He delivers the strategy in a matter-of-fact tone that you quickly don’t take a liking to. Your fist curls in irritation.

“What kind of a plan is that?” you question audaciously, your voice louder than you intended. “So you’re just going to do all the work while we sit around and wait for you?”

Bakugou grits his teeth, leaning further into the huddle to direct his senseless logic. “Look, it’s the fastest and most surefire way to snag our victory without sacrificing anyone,” he says. Playing over his words again, he finds it surprising he even chooses to offer his reasoning. Because if it were anyone other than you he was arguing with, he’s certain he’d leave it at that.

Knowing the current tension between you was a result of his misjudgment, it feels only right for Bakugou to make an effort in communication. He ignores the antsy expressions belonging to the others who signal from behind you to follow along with their original plan.

You don’t seem to catch the hint, nor do you buy into his ridiculous strategy. “Oh, so you’re that confident you won’t get taken out by the other team then?” you quip. As a result, Bakugou’s brows tighten at your noncompliance.

“I know how to take care of myself. You of all people should realize by now that no other nerd in this whole damn class can outmatch me.”

“And what about an ambush? How do you know they simply won’t anticipate your strategy and see you coming?” You fire another counterargument and the boy purses his lips, beginning to find this quarrel spiraling into a headache rather than a step in the direction of reconciliation.

While Sero and Kirishima stand there, shifting their heads back and forth throughout the fiery exchange, Mina speedily reacts. The gears of that cunning mind of hers click into place again.

“You know what, Y/n’s right. Why don’t you two go together then?” she proposes boldly. Her suggestion catches you by complete surprise. You veer in her direction with an incredulous look blown in your eyes.

Before you can open your mouth to protest, the two boys standing beside her immediately back her up.

“Hm, Mina has a point. The chances of you falling into a trap wouldn’t be much if you two work together,” Sero remarks.

Kirishima follows, “Yeah, you guys can watch each other’s backs while going to collect the flag! It’s safer to go in a pair than by yourselves I’d say.”

The three seem adamant about the idea, sharing equally content expressions, and with all that said, you find it hard to dig yourself out of this situation. In a way, you practically volunteered yourself after questioning Bakugou’s plan and doubting his abilities. The group only feels it’s right you come along as his support since you clearly must be worried about his well-being.

Pushing your objections down your throat, you reluctantly agree to tag along with the blond. What you find exceptionally shocking is how Bakugou doesn’t oppose these new conditions. Given his hard-headed temperament, you thought he would’ve scoffed and turned his back at being paired without notice, but no such things were happening here.

...Odd.

“Tch, whatever. Let’s get going then,” is all he gives, starting in the direction into the urban area of the training course.

You trail behind him. “Coming, Boom-Boy…” you mutter the last bit but don’t suppress the urge to let your words be known. Bakugou turns his head and gives you a look akin to an uptight six-year-old you just offended at your local playground. You shrug in response, a corner of your lip pinched upward. He doesn’t pick a fight over the nickname, but his eyebrows remain fiercely slanted, and coupled with his heavy steps and the excessive swinging of his gauntlet-clad arms, it tells you of his emotional constipation plain as day.

.

.

The journey toward the other teams’ flags is cloaked in strained silence and the physical gap between you two does not encourage any of you to speak up. At this point, both of your levels of annoyance for each other have mellowed out. Now it just feels... awkward—strange. You don’t see his expression, nor does he see yours. It feels like you’re being left in the dark, having only the back of Bakugou’s head to stare at the entirety of the way, and though you supposedly have his back, Bakugou feels precarious in this state as he trudges along at the front, not daring to turn his head to cross your eyes.

The ambiance is reminiscent of the ancient Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Where Bakugou walks through the depths of the underworld, seeking you out in hopes you’d join his side once again. If he turns around now and spills his thoughts to you too soon, he fears that your forgiveness would be whisked away, thoroughly beyond his reach, and replaced with your promises of retribution.

That was the eloquent version of the situation anyway. To put it bluntly, Bakugou was just impatient as hell to say something to you. The silence suffocates him to the point where the words are nearly about to be squeezed out of his throat, but he bites his lip to snuff out the urges.

The more he keeps them in, the more fidgety he becomes, hands itchy and mouth trembling with grit between his teeth. The idea of not letting his voice be heard was something Bakugou detested. Mainly because it was already such a challenge to even keep his mouth shut, given his fiery attitude and lack of patience.

Man, what the hell am I hesitating for? he asks himself, that outspoken side of him spurring him on.

Ah, screw the uncertainty, he thinks. If he doesn’t say anything now, then he won’t get to say anything ever.

Bakugou stops in his tracks, turning his head. Here goes nothing,

“Hey, Y/n, I–”

“Katsuki–”

Words collide into each other, jumbled and incoherent, which take you two by surprise as you meet each other’s furrowed gazes. It’s quiet as you both piece your way through this, eyes trained like you haven’t seen each other in months when the reality is that a week of bitterness has somehow made you act like strangers. The bewildered look crossing his features is foreign to you; you’ve never quite seen Bakugou as taken aback as he is now.

“You first,” you grant before Bakugou could mix up your words again. Even being given permission, the blond still isn’t sure what to say, his thoughts lost on him the moment his voice clashed with yours. He takes a deep breath, calming his senses and steadying his mind for what he wants to convey.

“Look, Y/n, I don’t know how to put this as nicely as I can,” he begins, tone consistent yet wary, assessing your expression, “but I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there all by yourself. I shouldn’t… have blown you off like that and forgotten about you.” He delivers this bluntly—honestly—as open as a boy of his nature can muster with arms spread out, willingly exposing him to his faults and your reprisals.

Looking at you, he finds your eyes are cast to the floor, assuming to be reflecting on his words carefully. After some deliberation, you come across the vermillion in his eyes.

“Frankly, I haven’t entirely forgiven you just yet. But I will say that despite how I’ve been acting, I’m not as mad at you as you think,” is what you give, and Bakugou would be lying to himself if he didn’t achieve relief at your statement. He mentally releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding throughout the exchange. However, you aren’t done yet.

“I just want you to understand what moments like those mean to me. It’s during that time where I can share my feelings and learn more about you—understand who you are,” you say. Bakugou latches onto every word. “And it goes both ways, you know. It’s hard to want to stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort to make time for you.” It’s obvious you aim that comment at him as Bakugou’s eyes soften slightly hearing it. His calloused, glove-clad hands wrap into his palms. Man, he really was a jerk.

“Still… I know you’re making an effort to be sincere and that you’re genuinely sorry for what happened, especially considering how the others seem to have set this whole conversation up, right?” Bakugou winces over the Bakusquad’s ploy coming to light and makes a note not to follow along next time unless those dummies can scrape up a more elaborate plan.

Despite that, he presses on, “So, what does this mean?” A smile settles on the curve of your lips, sensing his impatience as his voice hastens you along.

“Well…” you begin, speech drawn out in anticipation as you step toward him to where Bakugou follows your movements. That is until he catches a few shadowy figures shifting around atop the small building behind you. Before you can open your mouth to continue, his instincts flare to life.

“Hey, look out!” he exclaims, already acting on his warnings by lunging forward to push you out of the way. Your breaths draw back into your lungs, your body thrust abruptly into the opposite direction. Landing on your butt, you wince at both the shock and the pain, but your whines desist when you witness Bakugou taking a force to the head as a result of coming to your aid.

“Katsuki!” you yell, immediately getting off the ground to rush to his side, but he can’t find it in himself to respond. Afflicted with a substantial blow to the crown of his head, his whole being throbs and his vision spins.

Fuck, is Y/n, okay? is the first thing on his mind, ignoring the liquid trickling down his forehead. His question is answered upon turning his head to meet your anxious expression—your eyes wide and lips quivering as they move to say words he can’t exactly make out beneath the pounding sensations consuming his mind. As he feels a set of arms wrap around him, he tries discerning his surroundings to form a reply, but can only capture bits and pieces.

“—tsuki! ...old… n!”

“...god—! I’m so dead!”

A sputter of words tangling together is the last he hears before his vision fades to black.

.

.

The next time Bakugou awakes, his eyes slowly sever open to come face-to-face with a blurry white ceiling. The lights assault his vision as his senses take time to adjust, unraveling the environment to realize he’s laying on a bed—a hospital bed to be precise.

He attempts lifting himself but is met with retaliation in the form of his pulsating head which he immediately flinches at. His hand goes to rub his scalp to soothe the ache and he finds bandages wrapped tightly around him. “What the hell happened?” The last he remembers is traversing the urban area with you for the capture the flag mission before finally confronting the subject that had been plaguing your minds for a week now. After that, he caught sight of some object descending toward you and before he had even realized it, his feet had moved on their own. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the nurse’s office with a headache from hell.

Wait, what about you? Were you okay? Surely, he had to have pushed you out of the way in time, right?

His head moves quicker than it should’ve, revealing the other hospital bed in the room to be unoccupied, vacant. He sighs and his relief is further bolstered by the door to the nurse’s room opening to unveil you unharmed with only your heavy look of concern troubling him.

“Katsuki, oh thank god, you’re okay!” you say, quickly pacing over to his side with a glass of water in hand. You leave it at his bedside, sitting before him. Gauging your appearance up and down, Bakugou tries making out even the smallest details.

“You aren’t hurt?”

You’re appalled he would ask this despite clearly being the one patched up in a hospital bed right now, and likely sporting some serious head trauma.

“Of course I am, you’re the one that lunged forward to protect me,” you tell him. Bakugou looks down at his lap, figuring that was what happened, but hearing it from you comforted him more than he thought. However, his comfort is wretched from him by the intense pressure persisting in his skull. Seeing him in pain, you urge him to lay down and rest.

“How the hell did I end up here anyway?”

You fidget with your fingers, hesitating on answering. At that, the blond lifts a brow, suspicious.

“Mineta… accidentally dropped a rock on your head.”

“...You gotta be joking, right?”

Bakugou leers hard, finding the reason he was out of commission to be a damn pebble hitting his head a detriment to his pride. And because of Mineta of all fucking people. Still, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you would’ve been the one to meet his fate instead, and he weighed this outcome to better than the former.

Then you explain how the teachers had temporarily intervened to bring his unconscious body to the nurse’s, where the old lady went about tending to his injury. Said she did her job and all he needed was to rest and let her quirk take fuller effect within that time.

“So did we win the game?” He switches the topic to today’s mission of capture the flag that was cut short on his end.

You shake your head, but at least grant him the benefit of knowing Mineta’s team ended up placing last. At that, his eyelids shut and he crosses his arms behind his bandaged head. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my intention to win anyway.”

You give him a look. “...Liar.”

Bakugou cracks an eye open at you. “Hah? What do you mean I’m a fucking liar?”

“I know you, Katsuki. I dated you, after all. And the Katsuki that I dated is an arrogant, competitive jerk who thinks of being the best above all else.” Bakugou scrunches his nose, wondering what you’re implying through your... overly frank descriptions. “Still… he’s sweet and caring at times… and reliable when he needs to be,” you continue, tone softening that draws Bakugou in, “And the kind of guy I want to give a second chance to.”

Absorbing your words, Bakugou blinks. “S-Seriously?” He doesn’t mean to stutter, but the offer catches him off-guard. He replays what you just said. That’s what he heard, right? A second chance?

You giggle at how uncharacteristically astonished he sounds. “Yes, seriously.”

“Does that mean you forgive me for what happened last week?”

You hum between pursed lips in playful contemplation. “Well, maybe you can redeem yourself by going on another date with me then?”

Hearing your proposal, a wide grin arcs his lips, edging into a smirk.

“That’s it? Well, I can definitely fucking do that,” he states, confidence rejuvenating his body at the new, hopeful chance before him.

“Oh, just one more thing though,” you suddenly add.

“What?”

“We are not going to that Chinese Restaurant again.”

[whiteqnn]

PURE [4] - Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

A/N: I’m back. Shout-out to my sister @mojajasnoscmrokirozproszy , who encouraged me into finishing this part.

part 1 

part 2 

part 3 

part 5

PURE [4] 

Corpse was confused, to say the least. He stared at the screen with his brows furrowed, not exactly understanding what just happened, or what caused Y/N to leave so suddenly. He thought they were all having fun, or at least that’s the impression Y/N gave while interacting with other players. 

Was she just pretending she’d had fun when in reality, she didn’t want to spend time with them? 

He knew it was none of his business. They didn’t even know each other, outside of these two short games they’ve both been part of. But Corpse was quick to get attached to new people, and Y/N’s sweet voice, her innocent demeanor, and pure personality made him instantly like her... 

Perhaps it wasn’t exactly a good thing that he felt so worried when she left, given the fact that two of them have spoken maybe for a few minutes since they met each other. But Corpse couldn’t help it, and certainly couldn’t stop this weird feeling that something was wrong and that he needed to make sure that Y/N was okay. After all, he was the only one who knew that she left. Except for his audience, of course. 

So the moment her white little astronaut suddenly disappeared, Corpse went on a killing spree. He didn’t even care about that whole finish my lyrics thing he decided to terrorize his friends with, he just wanted to finish this game and check on Y/N. It was obvious that she wasn’t telling the truth. Even though it looked like she was trying really hard to contain her emotions, he could still hear her quavering voice. It was too hard to hide, and he knew it firsthand. That’s why he made it his point to at least check on her.  

“Jesus Corpse, you just went full berserk on us...” Felix murmured when the last person was killed, and Corpse could see a sign victory on his screen. It didn’t make him smile though, not how it usually would. 

“It was great though! Let’s do it again, but maybe on the other map?” Sykkuno suggested, clearly very excited about this hide and seek game they’ve come up with. 

“Sure, let’s get the first one maybe?”

“Actually, would you guys mind if we had a little break?” Corpse asked before they could start another game. “We’ve been playing for a little while now...”

“Ah, yeah! Bathroom break!” came Rae’s response, followed by a few hums of approval. Corpse sighed in relief. He was afraid his worried voice would draw the attention of other players, but they didn’t seem to notice it. 

“All right, is ten minutes good?” asked Sean, and when everyone agreed, Corpse excused himself from his audience and muted his mic. He grabbed his phone and unlocked it, only to be hit by a sudden realization.

He didn’t even have Y/N’s number. 

“Fuck...” he cursed quietly under his breath, running a hand through his hair. How the fuck was he supposed to check on her? He couldn’t use discord, he was still streaming after all... Maybe Twitter would work? Nah, she probably wouldn’t even notice his messages. What was left then?

Of course. 

Sean.

Corpse didn’t even think about any explanation as he quickly typed in a message to the said man, asking if he had Y/N’s number. The response came almost immediately. 

“Yeah, I have. Why?” 

Okay, now what? He couldn’t just tell him what happened. Corpse knew that Sean and Y/N were close, but he felt like it wouldn’t be fair towards the girl if he told Sean what happened. Maybe she didn’t want anyone to know... Maybe she didn’t want to speak to anyone. 

Him included. 

But Corpse felt as if he had to do it because that was something he wished someone would do for him if the roles were reversed. To at least show that he cared, that she wasn’t alone with whatever it was that bothered her... 

Was he being intrusive, for wanting to make sure that everything was okay? And what if she was totally fine and he’d just end up making a complete fool out of himself?

“Not that I haven’t already made a fool out of myself...” he mumbled under his breath, his fingers quickly typing the response to Sean. However, before he could finish it, the said man’s name appeared on his screen with an upcoming call. 

It was so unexpected that Corpse almost dropped the phone.

“Um, hey man” he said after picking up, his hands trembling as he tried to come up with some good explanation as to why exactly he needed Y/N’s number. “Look I-”

“Does this have something to do with her disappearance?” Sean cut him off, leaving Corpse with his mouth hung open, utterly shocked.  

“I um- no. I just wanted to call her and... cause I don’t have her number...”

“Corpse, I heard what she had told you...” Sean sighed into the phone “I was flying around you after you murdered me.”

“I...” Corpse tried once again and again found himself at the loss of words. His brows furrowed suddenly as he realized something “Wait- are you still streaming?” 

“I left for a moment to grab something to drink and call Y/N. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t say anything on the stream.” 

Corpse sighed in relief. If Sean managed to somehow play it off, then his fans maybe haven’t figured out what was going on. He didn’t want them to attack Y/N’s social media with tons of questions she obviously wouldn’t answer. 

“Do you know what happened?” Corpse asked quietly, hoping that maybe Sean knew something more that would ease his nerves. He hoped that it wasn’t anything serious, that maybe Y/N just had a bad day. “She left so suddenly and I got a little worried...” 

For a moment there was silence between the two of them, Corpse impatiently awaiting an answer and Sean thinking about the right words... or wondering whether he should tell him the reason for Y/N’s disappearance in the first place. 

“It’s- ugh.” Sean groaned, before letting out a heavy sigh “It stays between us, all right? I don’t want others to start texting her out of nowhere, asking if she’s okay. She would probably kill me.”

“Yeah, absolutely” Corpse nodded his head rapidly, even though Sean couldn’t see him. 

“Okay... So I don’t know the exact reason of her disappearance...” he began, and Corpse felt his heart sink in disappointment. “But I have some suspicion.”

“Can you be a little more specific, Sean? We don’t have much time before the next game...” Corpse didn’t want to sound rude but he was slowly growing impatient, and even more nervous when he still wasn’t able to check on Y/N and make sure that she’s okay.

“She received lots of hate after our last stream.” Sean finally explained, although his voice sounded quite reluctant. “And when I say lots, I mean lots, Corpse.”

“What?” Corpse grunted, his brows knitted together in confusion “What do you mean?”

“Oh you know, man... Comments on Twitter, on her Instagram, even under her latest video...” Sean let out an exasperated sigh “Apparently, some people are not happy that she’s playing with us.”

“Why?” Corpse managed to utter, completely shocked at the news. For some reason, it was the last thing he expected Sean to say. It didn’t even cross his mind that someone as sweet and polite as Y/N might have to deal with this kind of issue. 

She was always so kind, why would anyone hate on her? 

“You know how some people act online...” Sean murmured, his voice clearly gloomy, as opposed to his usual cheerful tone. “They think she shouldn’t be playing with us cause she’s not popular enough. Some consider her annoying, not funny enough, and so on...”

“What does popularity have to do with who we’re playing with?” Corpse almost growled these words, feeling anger slowly bubbling up in his stomach. He couldn’t comprehend why anyone would act this way towards Y/N, towards this little angel as Sean put it last time they played, towards this sweet, innocent girl, his partner in crime... 

“That’s what I told her before the stream” Sean explained with a sigh “And that she shouldn’t worry about what strangers think of her... but it’s easier said than done.” 

“You think she received another text or something?”

“I don’t know man” Sean sighed “I tried calling her like ten times already and she didn’t answer. It’s not like her to leave so suddenly, without saying goodbye. I’m worried something happened...” 

Corpse clenched his jaw, closing his eyes for a second. If Y/N didn’t answer Sean’s calls, why would she answer his? They barely knew each other, while Sean was her best friend.  

“Maybe... I’ll try calling her?” Corpse suggested anyway, his voice low and almost shy. He figured it was worth at least a try. 

Sean was quiet for a moment as if contemplating what to do. They were already running out of time, and Corpse didn’t know what to do. On one hand, he didn’t want to end the stream and leave his fans, he felt bad at the thought alone of disappearing so soon and disappointing them... But on the other, he couldn’t just leave Y/N like that. Especially, since as Sean explained, it wasn’t like her to act this way. It only proved that whatever happened was rather serious.

“Y’know what?” Sean suddenly said “I’ll give you her number, maybe she’ll pick up from you.”

“Thank you, Sean” Corpse said quietly, ready to end the call, only to be stopped by Sean’s words. 

“Look... I know I shouldn’t be asking you to do it, but... could you maybe try talking some sense into her?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable with this request “I feel like you’d be able to calm her down...”

“I...” Corpse stuttered, running a hand through his hair “I’ll try, okay? I’m not sure if she’ll want to talk about it though, I’m basically a stranger, so...”

“Corpse, she agreed to join us only after reading your last tweet.” 

Oh. 

His heart fluttered with something that didn’t seem like growing panic. And even though his face was expressing his worry, his lip corners formed a small, bashful smile. And whether he liked it or not, his cheeks turned completely red.

“I’ll... I’ll see what I can do” he managed to reply, before ending the call. 

Corpse ran a hand through his locks and down his face, releasing a heavy breath he didn’t know he was holding. He considered getting Y/N’s number a difficult task which, however, turned out to be the easiest one. Now came the real challenge. Calling her. 

For a moment, he just stared at the screen of his phone, scanning the new message from Sean, which consisted of Y/N’s phone number. It looked as if he was memorizing the number when in reality, he just felt panic overtaking his body and complete chaos in his mind. 

Let’s say she picks up the phone, and then what? Should he just say hi? Introduce himself? 

“Hi it’s me, the guy you basically don’t know and who became paranoid after you disappeared from the game” 

 Yeah, sure. Perfect introduction for the pep talk he was supposed to deliver. 

Why was it always that he acted almost as if on instinct one second, only to start having second thoughts a moment later. He couldn’t back out now when he had already got her number. Not when there was also another person counting on him. Not when he still didn’t know what the fuck happened, and for some reason was determined to find out. 

And then was the problem of his voice, which suddenly seemed stuck in his throat. It was a very weird feeling, typical for one to get while being on the verge of a panic attack. As if there was a need to talk, but the body refused to. As if his vocal cords were paralyzed and not eager to cooperate. 

As if it was him who just experienced something strongly upsetting, not Y/N. 

Corpse fidgeted with his phone for a moment, before deciding against the idea of calling the girl. He figured he wouldn’t be able to utter a single word if she picked up the phone from the unknown number in the first place. If she did though, she’d probably consider it some misdialed call or some prank. Which was the last thing he wanted her to think.

Instead, he opted on sending her a text. 

He sat still for a moment, thinking about a message that wouldn’t right away reveal the cause of his concern, but which would say enough to figure out who sent it. His thoughts drifted back to the game they were both playing, remembering his stupid comments and her gentle voice. His fingers typed out the message almost automatically. 

“Wanna jump into the lava with me?”

He hesitated just for a second, before sending the text, his heart doing a backflip in his chest the moment he pressed the send button. Corpse gripped the phone tightly in his hands, his eyes staring at the screen and waiting impatiently for those three little dots indicating that the other person is typing a response to appear. He waited and waited, and a lump slowly formed in his throat when Y/N didn’t respond immediately. 

Was he really getting paranoid? 

Maybe he was just tired. Or she had a bad day. Or she just found this game boring.

Or she didn’t want to play with them. Or she thought his comments were annoying. 

“I’m an idiot” Corpse muttered to himself and slapped a hand on his forehead, pushing those thoughts away. Deep down he knew that wasn’t the case, but the longer Y/N didn’t respond, the louder was the voice at the back of his head, telling him that her problems were none of his business and he shouldn’t be asking for her number in the first place.

But it was the right thing to do. He knew it, Sean knew it, and Corpse also hoped that Y/N did not perceive his text as some pathetic joke. He waited for a couple of minutes, before typing another message:

“I’m here, partner, if you need to talk.” 

He felt the need to assure her that despite the ongoing stream and the other players probably already waiting for him to return, he was there for her. That’s what he considered the best option, not to force her into talking, but to let her know that she wasn’t alone. And that it would take just one word from her to make Corpse drop everything and listen to her. 

After what seemed like an eternity of staring at his phone and analyzing his own messages, Corpse put his phone away, realizing that Y/N wasn’t going to reply anytime soon. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed in himself, and guilty as well. Perhaps it would be a better idea to call her, but at that moment he wasn’t able to trust his own voice. He thought about sending her another message but decided against it. Another new text was probably the last thing she needed, with her phone being drowned by hundreds of notifications from angered, and worried fans. 

All Corpse could do was hope that she saw his texts and that she knew she wasn’t all alone. He sure as hell wasn’t going to make her feel as if she was obliged to confide in him. After all, he was a stranger. 

Then again... sometimes to understand a problem and look at it from a different, new perspective, what one needed was, indeed, a complete stranger. 

-

The next two hours felt almost like an eternity. And a complete hell to Corpse. He tried his best to focus on the game and interacting with his fans, but no matter what, his eyes would drift towards his phone every now and then. Hoping to see Y/N’s name pop up on his screen, with a message saying that everything was fine. 

But then again... would it be enough to calm his nerves? Maybe she’d write something like that just so he wouldn’t worry. Just so he would leave her alone.

She might as well just tell him to fuck off...

The fact that he received so many notifications all the time, especially now, during a stream, didn’t really help. Each time his phone lit up with a new notification, he would crane his neck with the hope of seeing Y/N’s response, only to be disappointed when it turned out to be just some new comment or someone tagging him in an instastory. Something that usually made him really happy now was the reason for his irritation. 

He couldn’t focus on the game itself either, finding it difficult to do his tasks and form some logical arguments during discussions. He didn’t really care, to be honest, when people threw him away almost at the start of the game. Winning or being the best Impostor was currently the last thing on his mind.

So when he said his goodbyes after the last round of Among Us and ended the stream, after thanking his fans, Corpse didn’t know what to do with himself. The game, even though he didn’t really pay much attention to it, provided at least some distraction from his phone, which was still silent when it came to Y/N’s texts. She either didn’t see them or didn’t want to see them. Corpse could only guess what was her reaction if there was any. 

He’d exchanged a few messages with Sean though, the man asking about Y/N during the stream and after it ended. Corpse couldn’t stop the guilt from growing even more when Sean expressed his concerns regarding Y/N and her absence. He knew the older streamer counted on him when it came to checking on the girl, but, obviously, he failed at getting a simple message from her. 

What was he even hoping to achieve in the first place? That she will text back right away, telling him everything that bothered her, confessing all her problems? He would have to be a total idiot to expect this girl to react to his messages.

It was all so overwhelming and frustrating at the same time that he felt almost nauseous. 

Leaving his phone in his room, Corpse walked to his small kitchen to grab a glass of water. The cold liquid brought much-needed relief to his burning throat, giving him a momentary sensation of comfort. He tested his voice, clearing his throat carefully and mumbling some nonsense under his breath. A sigh left his lips once he realized he could talk again and this weird feeling disappeared. 

He splashed his face with cold water and returned to his room, plopping down on his chair and giving his phone a quick glance. Perhaps he didn’t expect Y/N to reply to his texts at all because at first, he didn’t even notice her name on the screen of his phone. He looked back to his computer, almost out of habit, glancing between the tabs he had opened on his screen before. 

And it struck him suddenly, making him almost jump out of his skin when he realized that she did text him back. 

Grabbing his phone quickly, he unlocked it and opened the messages, almost hitting the one with Y/N’s name on it. 

“Hey, partner.” was all the message said. And yet it made Corpse’s heart almost jump out of his chest, both from relief and a sudden feeling of panic. 

She texted him back. Now, what the fuck was he supposed to do?! 

He stared at her text for a second as if trying to convince himself that it was real and he didn’t accidentally pass out on his desk, dreaming that Y/N takes his comments and texts seriously. 

When he came to the conclusion that the text was, indeed, real, and Y/N probably expected him to write something back, he thought about the best way of asking her what happened. On one hand, he knew from Sean what could possibly be the reason for her disappearance. On the other, what obviously mattered was Y/N’s version. How to get it out of her though, without being too intrusive?

Corpse decided that the best option will be to make some dumb, small talk, which would ease her (and his) nerves.

“Y’know, I almost didn’t manage to finish the mission without you” he texted her, concluding that playing along this partner thing would maybe work. In his text, Corpse referred to the one time he was the Impostor after Y/N left, and which happened to be completely boring without her running around “Had Toast and others suspecting my every step all the time.”

This time, much to his relief, the three little dots appeared almost immediately.

“I’m glad you managed to kill’em all nevertheless.”

He imagined her saying it with that sweet voice of hers, which made him snicker, whether he liked it or not. While thinking of some right response, Corpse couldn’t help but wonder how did she know that he managed to kill every crewmate during that round... she wasn’t playing anymore then, so that could only mean she watched his stream.

“Not gonna lie though, everything would go way smoother hadn’t my partner in crime left me on the battlefield all alone :/” he texted her back. Corpse watched intently as the three dots danced next to Y/N’s name and suddenly disappeared, then appeared back again after a few moments, only to disappear again. And for a second he panicked, that maybe this text sounded passive aggressive, or that it made Y/N blame herself for leaving the game... 

However, when her response finally came, he realized he was wrong.

“Can I call you, Corpse?” 

For the first time in a really long time, Corpse was so eager to agree on a phone call.

He replied frantically, telling her that of course, she could call him, and then waiting impatiently for the call. And when she didn’t call immediately, like he expected her to, he found himself wondering if she suddenly changed her mind and decided against the idea of calling him. 

But then his phone buzzed and her name appeared on the screen.

The device almost flew out of his hands, his heartbeat quickening and a lump forming in his throat once again.

Relax, man. It’s Y/N, your partner in crime. You’ve heard her voice before. 

But this was different. The circumstances were different and the reason for a call was different too. And now it was just the two of them, as opposed to a lobby full of friends. And Corpse tried so hard to figure out how to convince her that all the hate she receives on social media didn’t mean anything, that for a moment he forgot she was still calling.

He pressed the green button carefully, as if he was defusing a bomb, and found himself unable to utter a single word, just like before. There was silence on the other line too, as if Y/N expected him to speak up first. 

So Corpse build up the courage and took in a deep breath, before letting out a quiet, almost shy:

“Hi”

 The word left his mouth almost as a whisper, and for a moment he thought that the girl didn’t even hear it, but then her voice told him otherwise.

“Hey... Corpse” she mumbled. She sounded so different, almost as if she was sick. Her calm and soft voice was so quiet that Corpse had some trouble hearing her at first. She sounded so tired, so hurt, so defeated, that he completely forgot every advice he had managed to stock in his mind before this call. 

“It’s good to hear you, partner.” he said after a moment, realizing that asking what’s wrong wasn’t the best thing he could do at that moment. He felt that she’d probably hung up on him if he did... “I didn’t think I’d hear from you after you aborted the mission.”

He heard her sigh out a laugh at his words, his tone playfully accusatory. The girl cleared her throat and wondered for a second, before replying:

“It wasn’t exactly my mission... And if I remember correctly, you were the one who broke our partnership, chasing me around the ship.” 

He could almost hear the smile behind her words, which made his lip corners curl up slightly. He was glad she still managed to joke with him. It meant that, perhaps, it wasn’t that bad. 

“Did I kill you, though?” 

“You would if you had a chance.”

“I had plenty of chances Y/N, and I never took one” he replied right away with a chuckle. “I may be the murderer, but I’m no traitor.”

“You say that after luring me to that lava pit and killing me and Sykkuno? It was a trap all along, wasn’t it?” she asked suspiciously, but he knew she was joking “I bet you were conspiring with MrBeast all this time...”

“How dare you” he scoffed, trying to hold back his chuckle “I took you there cause it’s a special place, it was no trap! It just happened to be the wrong place and the wrong time...”

“Sure, partner”

“I’m serious!” he laughed “Besides - I apologized, and if I remember correctly, I think we both agreed that I jumped into that lava pit for you after all...”

“After they voted you off! You didn’t have any other chance!”

“Maybe it was all planned?” he said, changing his voice to more mysterious “Maybe I conspired with MrBeast so I could jump into that lava pit... and the only way to do it is by being voted off. So, either way, I kept my word.”

“Fine... whatever.”

Their laughter died down and was replaced by surprisingly comfortable silence. Corpse was happy with how the conversation started - he believed it would be easier for Y/N to explain what happened now, if she wished to explain, of course. 

“Y’know...” he began after a second, deciding to change the subject and finally address the issue. “Partners are supposed to help each other... and be there when the other person is in need...”

He was careful with his words, being full aware that Y/N might find it uncomfortable to share her problems with him. He wanted to encourage her, just slightly, if his previous texts weren’t enough. 

She sighed quietly and he could sense her reluctance. 

“But only if the other person wants partner’s help.” he added after a moment, keeping his voice as soft as he could. Y/N didn’t respond right away, but she didn’t hang up either, which Corpse took as a good sign. He gave her a couple of seconds to collect her thoughts, before asking another question: 

“What made you so upset, Y/N/N?”

He could hear her inhale the air sharply as if she had trouble breathing steadily. The line went silent, not that Corpse was surprised. He waited patiently, giving the girl the time she needed to decide whether she wanted to answer that question and what words should she choose if she did. 

And when she finally spoke up, Corpse felt as if his heart could break.

“They are just so mean...” she almost whispered, her voice cracking. He didn’t have to ask whom she meant, it was obvious. “And I don’t even know why... I didn’t do anything to those people, and yet they are so mean towards me.”

Corpse hummed in response, allowing her to keep talking. If there was one thing he knew that helped coping with stress, it was sharing it with someone else. And even though he himself had a lot on his plate, he felt the need to be that someone for Y/N. 

“I... I don’t want you to think that I’m some crybaby, who takes everything super seriously and can’t take a joke, but...” she stuttered for a moment and Corpse fought the urge to cut her off and tell her that what he thinks of her is the complete opposite. “But those comments... those weren’t jokes, Corpse. I don’t think anyone would find them funny.”

His heart ached at the sound of her quiet, weak voice. And then it angered him, that some anonymous haters managed to upset this cheerful, innocent person. How could anyone do something like that to Y/N?

“I... I’m sorry for telling you this...” she suddenly trailed off, sounding rather awkward and uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t be bothering you with my silly problems...”

“They aren’t silly as long as they are problems to you, Y/N.” 

“Yeah, but... I’m sure everyone from the group has received such comments at some point of their career... or maybe they still receive them...” she murmured almost embarrassed. “Maybe it’s no such a big deal after all...”

“Let me ask you something” Corpse said, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach. Not directed at Y/N, of course, but at the people who made her think this way. “Imagine that someone, let’s say me, calls you because of the same reason. Would you consider telling me that online hate, or any hate for that matter, is not a big deal? That those are just my silly problems” 

She was silent for a moment, thinking about his question, and probably not expecting it in the first place. However, after a few seconds of initial surprise, she replied firmly:

“Of course not.” 

“Then why are you trying to convince yourself that they are?” he asked in what would sound like an accusatory tone, but in reality was just his voice laced with worry. “There’s no such thing as a silly problem Y/N, as long as it bothers you. If you consider it a problem, then it is a problem. And the fact that other people receive similar, or even worse comments, doesn’t mean anything. Maybe just that they are longer on Youtube and they’ve learned to deal with this kind of stuff... And your reaction? It doesn’t make you a crybaby and please Y/N, don’t ever think that way about yourself.”

He said it all so quickly and almost on one breath, letting all his frustration out and trying to form his babbling into some logical statement. 

“I understand what you’re going through...” he confessed after a moment of silence between them. “I know what it’s like to go through the ocean of positive comments and find those few which say something completely different... something that is meant to hurt you and humiliate you... Something that ruins your day, or even a couple of next few days or weeks... Something that completely overshadows everything else you’ve read about yourself. Something that people write from the safety of their own computers or phones, without showing their faces and remaining completely anonymous.”

For a moment, Corpse allowed himself to speak about his own experience, thinking that maybe when Y/N realizes that he knew exactly what she was dealing with, it would make it easier for her. “And that is the key fact, Y/N, that they are anonymous. They do what they do because no one can see them because it is comfortable for them to leave a hate comment and not face any consequences. Because they don’t have to face the person their hate is directed towards.”

“Some of the accounts were not anonymous...” Y/N mumbled, and Corpse could clearly hear that she was speaking through the tears. “People were using their public accounts, with photos and everything...”

“But let me guess, those comments weren’t even about your videos, huh? They weren’t about any of your work?” 

“Well...” she whispered, thinking about Corpse’s question. “Truth to be said, no. Most of them just looked like some kind of a personal attack on me...” 

“Exactly. It’s not even criticism, it’s just plain bullshit cowards are sharing online. They probably aren’t even able to form some logical sentence, they just combine some random words which are supposed to hurt you.”

“It works...”

“Y/N...” Corpse sighed into the phone, hearing her defeated tone. “Let me ask you another question, okay?” she hummed in response, and Corpse cleared his throat. “Tell me, whose opinion matters to you the most?”

“My friends... and my fans’“she said.

“Okay.. and whom do you consider your fan?”

“Someone who finds the content I create interesting and entertaining and takes his time to watch my videos.” she replied right away.

“Okay. Do you think that people who left those comments took their time to even watch your videos?” 

“Probably not...” she replied after a second. “Look, I know what you mean Corpse... That I shouldn’t worry about it because they are not my fans and therefore their opinion shouldn’t matter... but that’s not the case. It’s the fact alone that for some reason people spend their time hating me when I didn’t even do anything to them.”

“You didn’t do anything to them.” Corpse repeated her own words in his deep voice. “And they didn’t watch your videos. It seems like they don’t have any reason to leave those comments, right?” he asked. “I know that it’s hard Y/N, I really do, but the truth is, you can’t really have everyone leaving positive feedback under your content... There will always be someone who will consider it a good idea to send you a hateful message, just because they can, not because they have any specific reason to. Now I don’t say that’s okay... but it’s in a way like some disease. The one there’s no cure for. Even though you can’t cure it, you can make yourself immune.” 

“How, Corpse? How do you make yourself immune to messages saying that you’re a fucking annoying bitch, that you don’t deserve what you have? That you don’t deserve your friends, and you are not good enough to play with them? To spend your time with them? How do you deal with comments suggesting that you should go and kill yourself, because you’re not famous enough, and you will never be?” 

Her voice suddenly rose, and Corpse felt as his heartbeat quickened with each comment she described. He gripped his hand around the phone, his knuckles turning white and his brows furrowing in an expression of pure fury. 

He considered her words for a moment, trying to come up with the best advice, but realized there wasn’t any that would satisfy her. He could imagine the state she was in, she probably wouldn’t take any of his advice seriously. And he wouldn’t blame her for that. 

“I’m sorry for snapping on you...” she suddenly said, her voice back to its soft tone. “It’s just too much for me to handle...”

“It’s all good, Y/N, don’t apologize. You have the full right to be angry and to show it. I just want you to remember that...” Corpse gulped the lump in his throat, feeling his cheeks getting warmer. “Those comments are not what define you. As a matter of fact, they’re not even about you. You know why? Because people who write them don’t know you. They don’t even take a moment to acknowledge what an intelligent and talented person you are, not to mention how kind... but I do. A-and everyone else too.”

She was silent for a moment, and Corpse panicked, that maybe he said too much, or made things awkward again. But then she spoke up, her slightly less weak than before.

“I suppose... maybe you’re right, Corpse.” she said, still sounding a little bit unconvinced. He understood, it was clear his one pep talk wouldn’t suddenly make her forget about it. It would be like telling a person with depression to stop having depression and expecting them to suddenly feel better. “Thank you. For listening to my pathetic babbling... and for not telling me to just pull myself together.”

“First of all, your babbling is not pathetic...” he began “Second of all... I know we don’t really know each other, but... If you ever feel the need to talk to someone, I’m here.”

“And for that I’m grateful, Corpse” she said, clearly smiling. “Sorry, I mean, partner.”

“Partner.” he chuckled into the phone, smiling from ear to ear. 

“It’s getting late...” she yawned into the phone. “Sorry. I think I’ll go to sleep, I’m really tired...”

“Of course” Corpse replied, hiding the disappointment in his voice. He really enjoyed talking to her, just to her alone, but he understood that the whole conversation and the event preceding it probably exhausted her. 

“Hey...” she suddenly said, and Corpse could swear that her voice sounded as if she unexpectedly became shy. “Um... it was really great talking to you, you’re a really good listener, Corpse.”

“Glad to hear that” he smiled happily.

“Um... would you mind if I called you tomorrow too?” she asked so quietly that he almost didn’t catch it, his breath hitching in his throat. “If you have time that is... if you don’t, or if you have some super plans, then I understand, it’s fine-”

“I don’t have any super plans, Y/N” he couldn’t help but chuckle, finding her nervous banter adorable. “Call me whenever you want.”

“Okay...” she sighed, almost in relief, but Corpse didn’t want to point it out to embarrass her even more. “So... let’s say, around 2 pm?” 

“Sounds good to me.”

“Great.” she said, her voice trailing off a bit. “I’m falling asleep here, Corpse... Thank you once again, for everything.”

“Anytime, Y/N.”

“Good night, partner.”

“Goodnight, partner.” 

-

Part 5 coming soon. It will probably be the last part of this series, I’m not sure yet though.

TAG LIST FOR PURE IS CLOSED. 

TAG LIST FOR CORPSE REQUESTS/OTHER FICS IS OPEN (if you want to be tagged, please send me a text)

@slytherin-chan @pillowjj @afuckingunicornn @love-and-virtues @ignooynim @crapimahuman @hannahjsworld @laugh-like-the-moon @fallengoddess772 @kingric03 @dolphinpink310 @paigeyisme @bunnychano3o @dxrtygxrl28 @z-nyx @baby-iyania @trashygeek @qmalley @yn-dreamlife @queenshadow142003 @daughterofsmokeandbone23 @my-little-art-world99 @yoongi-holland @rinarecommends @psychoticunicornsblog @goldensunshinestyle @unstableye @pastelvixenbeauty @weallneednamjesus @benakenalove @corpsesimpp @xenos-sonex @jellicorn05 @must-be-a-weasley-92 @keijikunn @infinitely-kate @thisshitisfuckingdifficult @summerbbygirl @mygirlviolet @eat-your-veggies @evans-dejong @jeffxx @weepingdonuthumancookie @myinnergayistakingover @i-love-scott-mccall @thecanterburywitch @annshit @blood-of-fandoms @namjoons-crabssss @guadu-chan @harleyharleycrow @stormyskys13 @soft4kei @ukai-hoe @that-chick212 @campcampie @cookiewhoree @ukiyolixx @princess-skate @newtaholic-staygold @unknown-and-invisible @cherry-piee @marvelenthusiast3000 @apples-of-february @lovelybrit @wineandionysus @faepetersen @vincent-stargogh @idalinette @ggsmashgg @browneyespinkhair @uwucorpse @fluffylittellama-blog @yoshigguk @queentorresstuff @becihadshawn @winged-reader @x3musicismylife @musubipost @missdox @honeyames @dark-o-room @izthefangirl @l0verl0ser @laurenfangirlsout @asianfrustration13 @hopelessfluff @sacrifice-me-please @stopicouldhaavedroppedmycrossant @sleepingalaska @strangenerdsstuff @otakuartist05 @blossom-702 @astream-ofconsciousness @mythicalamphitrite @infinitelycharmed23 @ s1utforfictionalcharacters @ abrokenlink  @ lestrangeesme  @laazullii @ avesagittarius @ smiithys

[ozetia]

NSFW alphabet of Kuroo please

Kuroo NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare - what he is like after sex.

He’s not gentle during sex so he understands that your body’s aching and exhausted. Aftercare is a must for Kuroo it doesn’t matter if he lasted 10 minutes or 1 hour, gentle or rough he always insists of taking care of your body. He normally runs warm baths with no overbearing sent’s like mint he normally sticks to apple or vanilla before sitting you in the bath and sitting behind you. There’s no unnecessary touches he uses a warm cloth to wipe your body and relaxes with you communicating if anything could be changed what what went well.

B = body part - His favourite body part and his partners.

Kuroo struggles to pick a favourite but if he were forced to choose it would be his thighs. You can sit on them, sleep on them and most importantly ride them and he loves nothing more than watching you ride his thigh whilst he’s on the phone to one of his friends.

His favourite body part of yours is your hands. He loves how you massage his scalp with your hands, how you run your hands down his body teasing him and how you stroke his dick after a frustrating day of work.

C = Cum - anything that has to do with cum.

Kuroo waits until you cum to cum himself, he normally overstimulates himself for yours and his pleasure on accident. He prefers to cum inside you safe sex or not he doesn’t like to waste his cum.

D = Dirty secret - dirty secret of theirs.

Kuroo has fantasied of having sex with you against his office window multiple times, nothing gives him more pleasure than everyone knowing that you belong to him.

E = Experience - How experienced are they, do they know what they’re doing.

Kuroo wasn’t popular with the girls during high school because he was too focused on volleyball and school work, this also carried throughout college. He’s had sex one or twice but he learned most techniques from watching pornhub.

Favourite position.

Kuroos favourite position is missionary he loves watching your face twist in pleasure. He can pleasure you and be intimate with you at the same time it allows him to hold your hand. It’s easy to pleasure and move you in missionary he’s tried many positions but missionary is number 1 on his list.

G = Goofy - are they more goofy or serious during sex.

Kuroo is half and half sometimes he cracks a joke half way through and ruins the mood and sometimes he’s serious. If he’s had a hard day and work and wants some sexy time it will be serious and if you want to get pregnant it will be serious.

H = Hair - how well groomed are they.

He’s well groomed he doesn’t like being under-groomed or not groomed. If you prefer him to have more hair or none he’ll take it into consideration.

I = Intimacy - how are they during sex

Again he is half and half, sometimes he is rough and sometimes he is gentle. Special occasions like birthdays are generally more intimate and gentle and praises will be thrown around, whereas if jealously is involved he tends to be rough and dirty.

J = Jack off - do they masturbate and how often

Kuroo masturbates when he’s in the mood, you’re not always there when he wants to relieve some stress. Before he met you he masturbated 3-4 times a week but now he hasn’t got as much free time as he did and it’s decreased to 2-3 times a week.

K = Kink - One of more of their kinks

Size kink - He loves how you look so small compared to him struggling to accompany his cock.

P = Praise - He loves to be praised unlike popular opinion he prefers to talk sweet.

L = Location - favourite places to have sex.

His office and your shared bedroom.

M = motivation - what turns them on.

Seeing you swing your hips when you walk he cant wait to grab your hips back into him. Your confidence showing through your walk reminding that he helped with makes him smirk, now all he’s got to remind you is to only swing your hips for him.

When you challenge him during a argument whether you kiss him when he tries to argue a point back or if you get too cocky. It makes his cock throb if you want a challenge he’ll give you one. In the bedroom he loves to see how long you’ll keep that attitude.

N = No - turnoffs, something he wouldn’t do.

He will never be part of a gangbang. Naturally you belong to him so why would he give you away to other people to do the same thing which he can do.

O = oral - receiving or giving, how skilful are they.

Kuroo prefers giving naturally he is a giver and wants you to feel better with his hands however if you wish to take control every once in a while he is happy for you to take over as long as control is still in his hands e.g blowjobs. There’s nothing more skilful than Kuroo eating out your cunt like a man starved.

P = Pace - Are they fast and rough or slow and sensual.

Again this depends in what mood Kuroo is in and what you want. Sometimes he just wants to take his time with you and sometimes he just wants to fuck you and break the head frame.

Q = Quickie - their opinions on quickies.

Kuroo is a busy man and sometimes he has to take what he can get. Even though he prefers prefer proper sex.

R = Risk - Do they want to experiment, do they take risks.

Kuroo is down to take risks as long as they’re safe and don’t include people he knows. He prefers to keep things safe and simple but sometimes he reads crazy sex stories on Reddit and wants to test if what they said is true before writing a comment.

S = Stamina - How long can he last.

No Kuroo can’t go on for twelve hours is not possible even if he did play volleyball, sex is like cardio short and exhausting. He can last up to a hour with breaks inbetween.

T = Toys - do they own any toys.

Kuroo himself doesn’t own any toys but if you want to own toys like vibrators he’s totally fine with that. He’s not always here to give you pleasure and if he can masturbate you can also masturbate. He doesn’t get dicky if you’re tired after a day and just want to use your vibrator instead he understands that your listening to your body.

U = Unfair - How much do they like to tease.

Kuroo likes to send nudes during work to see how much you can get worked up and so do you seeing how long you can both last until someone snaps. We all know Kuroo is a teasing and snarky bastard anyways and this doesn’t change in his sex life. Sometimes he comes up behind you let’s his hands run over your body before walking away.

V = Volume - are they loud, do they talk.

Kuroo isn’t scared to make noice in the bedroom, he moans along side you although not as much as you. Sometimes he likes make random conversations during sex for no reason. Although he does have a way of talking that drives you crazy.

W = Wildcard - random Headcanon.

When you first had sex with Kuroo he was a nervous reck telling you that maybe you should take charge. You tried taking charge and half way through he turned you over and thrusted into your cunt like no other man has.

X = x-ray - How big are they.

Kuroo is a little over average hitting 6-7.5. He’s 6,5 so he’s pretty girthy.

Yearning = how high is highest drive.

Kuroos sex drive is pretty normal some weeks he’s more horny and some weeks he’s not. He doesn’t need to have sex everyday to feel satisfied, he’s happy with being with you and loving you in general.

Z = Zzzz - how quick do they fall asleep afterwards.

He waits until you’re settled and asleep before falling asleep he wants to make sure that you’re safe.

[demonslayedher]

How Does Eating Humans Work?

Hello, Gotou here. We’re shamelessly borrowing from the format of a KnY Fanbook #2 comic to launch an investigation into demon metabolism and development by crossing the Sanzu River again to interview demons in the underworld. While we’ll be using canon materials as a base, the analysis and conjecture herein is personal, so we ask for your understanding. Also, please note that consuming any food in the underworld will make you unable to return, and we cannot promise your safety even though the interview subjects are dead, so please come along at your own risk.

Some of the questions we’d like to answer are, why do demons need to eat humans? How much do they need to eat to survive? Are there factors that influence how eating humans makes them stronger? If they don’t want to kill humans, what are their other options? We’ve rounded up some special guests below the cut (hidden for length and grossness), everyone from the lowly Temple Demon to the lovely Tamayo, to see what their actions in canon might tell us.

First, a review of what canon tells us, mostly as summarized in Fanbook #2: 1. With one exception named Yushirou, all demons were created by Kibutsuji Muzan, for his own purposes. They all have some amount of his blood, and can be divided into four classes depending on how powerful they are. From top to bottom, the Upper Moons, the Lower Moons, demons with special abilities, and other demons without any special characteristics. 2. Demons may be stronger depending on how much of Kibutsuji Muzan’s blood they have. Most beings’ cannot handle a large amount of his blood, and it will rupture the cells and that being will die, but there are demons who adapt well to it. 3. Typically, sunlight is the only way to kill a demon, by either bathing them in sunlight or cutting of their head with a Nichirin blade. However, there are powerful demons for whom chopping off their head does not work, and if it’s strong enough, demons can also be killed by wisteria poison.

4. Demons eat human blood and flesh. The more they eat, the stronger they become, and the faster their regenerative abilities become. Some humans have “Marechi,” a rare blood type, which is especially nutritious to demons, and eating one Marechi is the equivalent of eating several humans.

That’s an interesting thing we’d like to come back to, especially since we’re looking for quantitative information about how demons gain nutrition (though I have my doubts we'll get enough for statistical analysis). As an interesting note, Fanbook #2 also tells us that if demons try to consume the same edibles humans do, they’ll vomit it back up.

I’m told that Miss Tamayo drinks tea, though. That’ll be an interesting question for later. In my notes, it seems she’s also explained to Tanjirou back in Chapter 15 that demons will normally go berserk if they go a long time without consuming any blood or flesh. Berserk is one thing, but I wonder if they can starve to death? We’ll see if these canon clues will lead us to anything. We’ll begin now in an interview format. Hopefully this will go smoothly, but I’ve got a feeling it won’t. First up, we’ve the Temple Demon.

Temple: Who were you calling ‘lowly’ just now? Up there, above the cut?

Gotou: That was in a literal sense, not having Blood Techniques means you’re in the bottom common tier of demons.

Temple: Argh. Fine. What do you want to know?

Gotou: In Chapter 2, you were spotted with three human victims. However, it seems you left their bodies mostly intact and only ate small parts instead of consuming one full human at a time. Could you comment on this?

Temple: I’d have gotten to more later if that whelp with the strong legs didn’t interrupt me! Who’s got time to eat entire humans anyway? I went for the easy stuff first.

Gotou: I see. It appears you might had focused on key organs, like the heart and the liver. Would you say these are especially nutritionally dense?

Temple: I guess. If I’m going to eat humans, I’m going to start with what’s worth bothering to digest. Blood’s easier on the stomach, so that’s what I was busy with on the lady there.

Gotou: Then it takes effort to digest? Hmm. Let’s come back to this later. How many humans would you say you consumed, including these three?

Temple: Not a lot… I tried to get a variety so I could get stronger faster, but…

Gotou: I’ll put down a guess as ten or less. Let’s move on to someone who has a sharper memory for numbers. One of our longer-lived guests at Mt. Fujikasane for 47 years, the Hand Demon. While most of the demons on the mountain had only eaten two or three humans, you’ve eaten a whole 50 of the children who headed into the Final Selection, didn’t you?

Hand: Yes, that’s right. It was hard at first since I wasn’t very strong, and the demons usually all went crazy there eating each other, just like that one brat who got away in Chapter 7 said. If you could manage to kill any of the kids, you had the other demons to fight off to even get a piece to yourself. That was enough to get me by, and stronger, little by little. Your body learns to make your meals last, and make the most of what you can get. I usually only had a bite of one child a year, can you imagine how horrible that was? Most demons who survive usually figure out some way to develop and survive better, and once my cells found something that worked for me, I kept doing it. I got really good at snatching away prey from other demons, and soon enough I was a bigger threat than any of them. None of them could, you might say, lay a hand on me.

Gotou: That’s an interesting point about self-development. A demon named Nezuko was spent two years doing that in her sleep.

Hand: She must have had a big meal before that!

Gotou: Well, anyway. It seems that in near starving conditions, your metabolism made the most of what you had, leading to the most efficient use of whatever food was available to you.

Hand: That’s right, I got really good at it. Wasn’t always pretty, but I made it work. I got to a point where I could go two years without eating and still keep my wits about me while the other demons were going mad. But I chose to eat. I liked to keep my appetite for specific children.

Gotou: That smile is not reassuring. Some humans taste better than others, I guess?

Hand: That’s for sure. This one kid tasted awful, like rust and man sweat! I still don’t have that disgusting taste out of my mouth! But he was one of my more satisfying meals, so I ate more of him.

Gotou: Then why would you… nevermind, I don’t like that smile, no further questions. While I had hoped to keep these interviews focused on quantities of humans consumed, it does seem personal taste is worth asking about. I had tried to invite a Swamp Demon from Chapter 11, but it kept arguing with itself and it felt like I’d be wasting my time. The one definite thing I learned was that this demon is picky, with a distinct preference for 16-year-old girls. Based on the number of trinkets he kept, it seems he had consumed at least seventeen of them, including several in one town. Sheesh, that’s sort of a rough mission to send a first-timer on. I’ve got a more cooperative guest here to discuss her tastes, a Snake Demon who, according to Chapter 188, has a special taste for baby flesh.

Snake: Thank you for having me here. It’s good to be appreciated again.

Gotou: Did you only eat babies?

Snake: Goodness, no. Babies are delicious, but they aren’t very nutritious. And their skulls certainly aren’t that big, the ones I lounged around with were from the people whom I killed and stole from. But you know the nice thing about baby skulls? They’re still soft. They take a long time to digest, but I can swallow them whole.

Gotou: Like… like a snake, then. Sorry, I’m a little ill hearing that. Let’s back up, were all those skulls the remains of adults you ate, then?

Snake: Meh, I ate some of them of better-looking ones, but most of them I only killed. I could usually kill a lot more at a time than I could bother eating, my killing record was fifty women all at once.

Gotou: And you didn’t find that wasteful?

Snake: Wasteful? Not at all. I wasn’t exactly in dire straits, I lived a more luxurious life than most demons do. That meant I could afford to wait for a truly delicious meal, like how you humans might leave something in a slow-cooker to enjoy the perfect combination of doneness and tenderness, plated in the most appetizing of ways.

Gotou: I guess demons and humans are similar in that regard.

Snake: I’m so glad you can relate! Then you understand the frustration of a meal you’ve be preparing for years opening up the slow-cooker and running away right when they were just about done.

Gotou: I have never had that experience.

Snake: I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little snake, too.

Gotou: I think we might have gotten a little off-topic here. It does seem digesting humans comes with some difficulty. I’d like to invite the Drum Demon in next. Your name is Kyougai, I hear?

Kyougai: !!

Gotou: Kyogai, right?

Kyougai: You’ve heard of me! You know my name!

Gotou: I happened to, yes.

Kyougai: What have you heard???

Gotou: That you were kicked out of the Lower Moons for being unable to consume enough humans.

Kyougai: Oh. ……..yeah, that’s me.

Gotou: I thought demons go berserk if they go a long time without consuming humans. Wouldn’t that make an inability to consume them problematic?

Kyougai: It wasn’t that I couldn’t eat them! Like I said in Chapter 24, I had to in order to sustain myself, just like any other demon. But, at some point, I couldn’t eat as much as I used to. That happens to humans too, doesn’t it? When you just can’t stomach anymore?

Gotou: You mean like when you’ve overeaten? In a human’s case that feeling may go away within a few hours.

Kyougai: Sort of like that, but you know, humans reach a time when nothing is appetizing or the thought of eating makes them feel sick, right? Isn’t that the human condition?

Gotou: …uh… maybe if they have a medical condition? Or anxiety? Do demons get anxiety? Or eating disorders?

Kyougai: I… I don’t know. I just wasn’t good enough.

Gotou: I think it’s plenty good if you stopped eating humans. Though to have developed Blood Techniques and been a Lower Moon in the first place, you must had eaten a great number of them.

Kyougai: You think I’m great?

Gotou: What?

Kyougai: No, sorry, I was getting ahead of myself. It’s true, I used to be able to eat as many as the other Lower Moons always consumed. Our stomachs were stronger, you might say. Demons got strong by eating humans, and then the more you did that the better you usually got at it, so the strong ones would eat more and more and keep getting stronger and stronger. At least, that’s how it usually worked. I’ve seen other demons below me reached that point too, where they feel the drive to eat, but then they have trouble digesting it for a long time, so they don’t wind up eating that many people.

Gotou: Then it would make sense to eat the most nutritionally dense parts first.

Kyougai: Or a Marechi.

Gotou: Yes, or a Marechi.

Kyougai: It was a great idea, wasn’t it?

Gotou: I cannot condone any consumption of humans as a good idea.

Kyougai: I knew it. I’m nothing. Go ahead, stomp all over everything I ever tried to accomplish.

Gotou: I think I’m going to move on to my next interviewee now. It looks like we’ve got… oh, would you look at this? Lower Moon One. Enmu, I believe.

Enmu: You can believe whatever you want. I’m happy to help.

Gotou: I don’t need any help, thanks. I’m curious, since you were one of the stronger demons out there, it seems you had a stronger capacity for consuming humans.

Enmu: I did, I was always careful and paced myself so the Demon Slayers wouldn’t notice me. I took my time. I liked to enjoy e-e-e-a-c-h one.

Gotou: Then you had tastes too? Like babies, or 16-year-old girls?

Enmu: I could season any human to my liking. They’re all very easy to prepare.

Gotou: I’m still trying to get quantitative data. Can you tell me at least a rough estimate of how many humans you consumed?

Enmu: I told this more precisely to that boy with the earrings back in Chapter 59, and I can tell you this too. At my best, I could had eaten over two-hundred people at once if I took my time.

Gotou: OH MY GAW----sorry, I dropped my pen. Two hundred, at once?

Enmu: Yes. If I had just. Had. A little. More. Time.

Gotou: Clearly there is a huge difference between what common demons are capable of and what the Twelve Moons are capable of.

Daki: Psh, those were all any random common people. That’s nothing to brag about.

Gotou: Excuse me, and you are?

Daki: Daki, Upper Moon Six. You want something really impressive, you talk to the Upper Moons.

Gotou: I’m sorry, I don’t see you on my list.

Daki: What! Your list is stupid. Look me in the eyes, I’m Upper Moon Six!

Gotou: Very well, then. What can you tell me about your diet, Miss Upper Moon Six?

Daki: That’s more like it. It’s true that digestion takes a while, and takes some effort. Even though we Upper Moons may have eaten hundreds of people in our lifetimes, it’s not as if we gorge ourselves. The clever ones among us save prey for later to eat when we feel ready for it.

Gotou: Food storage? How do you keep them fresh?

Daki: You leave them still alive, numbskull. Nobody wants to eat something cold, that’s gross.

Gotou: I see, so that’s why demons prefer to go after new kills instead of saving what they’ve already managed to kill. That also might explain why the demons on Mt. Fujikasane wouldn’t had eaten many humans, if they found long dead ones in edible.

Daki: You want to know the real secret to eating humans? You can eat what you find tastes good, sure. But to get stronger, you eat strong people. Like your Corp members, the ones besides chumps like you? Using all that Breath makes their muscles really lean and potent, it’s like they come offering themselves as protein bars for us.

Gotou: You make them sound like a fad diet…

Daki: The real secret is eating Pillars. Besides Marechi, they’re the strongest meals out there. Guess how many I’ve eaten?

Gotou: I don’t have the data to make an educated guess.

Daki: Then get educated! Look back at Chapter 88! I’ve eaten seven Pillars, and my brother has eaten fifteen!

Gotou: Your brother? Who is he, then, Upper Moon Five?

Daki: What? Ew. Gross. Gross! No way, ew!

Gotou: Hmm… eating Pillars, huh? Well, I can think of one Pillar who was…

Douma: Me too!

Gotou: Speak of the devil.

Douma: Actually, we Upper Moons can! And he's not Satan, that's not how this works. But I guess Muzan-sama’s curse doesn’t effect us now. Ask me anything you want!

Gotou: That Chapter 143 reference was such a rude entrance. I understand that Pillars are particularly nutritious—

Douma: Oh, please don’t misunderstand! I don’t even eat all the Pillars I’ve encountered. There was the one Flower Pillar who got away from me, but some of the boy pillars I just leave around. What’s really the key to consistent nutritional intake is women! It’s really unhealthy for a demon not to get enough women in their diet, that’s why even if you’re only looking for Marechi or Pillars, your metabolism is going to get thrown out of whack with sudden big meals. You grow a stronger metabolism with consistency, I believe!

Gotou: If I could stop you there, I had an image from Chapter 142 I preferred to focus on for this case study. I see you keep a wide collection of skulls, from victims whom I assume you ate.

Douma: Yes, they all stayed together inside me for eternity, but the room looked lonely without décor.

Gotou: It seems other demons usually go for nutritionally dense organs like hearts or livers, or easy to digest parts of the body, perhaps just blood sometimes. Eating the entire victim, bones and all, doesn’t seem to be the norm.

Douma: Bones are organs too, you know! That’s where blood is made, at its freshest. They do take more practice in learning to digest, and I had to find a way around not having to chew them, but the bone marrow is very, very good for you, so I make sure to consume it frequently. It may take more time and it causes some of my followers to panic more while they wait, though, that’s a bit of a downside. Oh, and I guess bones can make good storage for some sneaky poison. Even fingernails and hair follicles, who’d have thought?

Gotou: I don’t think hair would have much nutritional value in the first place. In all my years, I can never recall seeing a victim with their hair eaten.

Douma: Tsk, tsk! Clearly you haven’t done much metabolism research in advance. I was really impressed by how well Shinobu-chan understood how my digestion would work. Eating hair can do amazing things! Isn’t that right, Genya-kun?

Genya: ?????????

Gotou: Genya-kun!?

Genya: What am I doing here?

Gotou: I don’t think you’re supposed to be here. Isn’t there, you know, another side? The other direction?

Genya: What are you doing here? Did you die?

Gotou: I’m here doing research on demon metabolism and how they get stronger by consuming flesh.

Douma: What can you tell us about what up with having your friend feed you hair you found on the floor in Chapters 170-171, Genya-kun?

Genya: I’m not a demon!! Why the hell are you asking me?

Douma: ‘Hell’! Haha, good one!

Gotou: How do you even know about that? You were dead almost a full volume before that. And Genya’s different, he’s not a case study in how demons consuming humans works!

Douma: Are you certain?

Gotou: I hear the term get thrown around a lot that he’s ‘half-demon’, but—

Genya: I’m not a demon!!!

Gotou: --how would that even work? That would imply that one of his parents had to be a demon, and that—

Genya: What did you say about my mother!?!

Gotou: What? Nothing—

Genya: You say that to my face! You just trying saying something about my mother to my face! My mother never actually ate any flesh, you got that? She doesn’t deserve any of this!

Gotou: Genya, calm down, what—

Douma: I see we’re learning nothing about hair at all. Maybe Kokushibou-dono would provide better commentary on that?

Genya: Mom? Mo-o-o-o-m? Are you down here somewhere?

Gotou: And there he goes… wait, did you say Kokushibou? Upper Moon One? Oh no—he—he didn’t want me bothering him, he did not agree to another interview—

Douma: He-e-e-e-e-y, Kokushibou-dono! How did that work with Genya-kun eating your hair? Hair can be nutritious, right?

Kokushibou: You would gain… nothing… from consuming human hair… it’s not… flesh… you wasted your energy digesting it…

Douma: Aww, cutting it off them would had been sad, though.

Kokushibou: Demon hair… like demon weapons… is made… from our unique cells. It’s not dead… like human locks. Because that boy ate my live cells… it affected him…

Gotou: Yes, because he had a very, very unique metabolism, analyzed separately in this post. To be perfectly clear, Genya is completely human with cells that could temporarily transform, and he never consumed human flesh.

Kokushibou: He… vexes me…

Gotou: Um… while I’ve got you here, you’re one of the longest lived demons, clocking in at over three, maybe four centuries. Do you have any estimate of how many humans you’ve consumed?

Kokushibou: ……I see in… Chapter 100… that you are 23 years old?

Gotou: That is correct.

Kokushibou: Do you bother… remembering how many meals… you’ve had in a mere 23 years?

Gotou: I’m very sorry to have bothered you.

Douma: Kokushibou-dono’s ancient compared to the rest of us! But if I tried, I could probably recall. Let’s see. One, two, three, four…

Gotou: Is that? Your finger in your brain? Oh—ohhh—that is disgusting---I really don’t need to know numbers that badly, please stop. Is there maybe just some average you can give me for the Upper Moons instead? Like how many you’d eat in a month?

Douma: I wish I could, but a certain someone was an annoying outlier and didn’t like to eat so many humans. He made me worry all the time about his health.

Gotou: Really? Who might that be?

Douma: Hello-o-o-o-o-? Akaza-dono? Yoohoo! He spends all his time with his wife now and never answers when I call, it makes me so sad. Akaza-dono did eat humans, plenty of strong ones, but any time he wasn’t under orders from Muzan he liked to spend his time training instead of eating. Fanbook #1 says he did that way more than eating!

Gotou: Training? What sort of training?

Douma: Similar things to what your Corp members did, I imagine. Doing squats, throwing punches, things like that.

Gotou: Then demon muscles had similar function to human muscles, and could be strengthened through hard work? That’s surprising.

Douma: I know, right? I’ll let you in on a secret, I don’t think it was the physically repetition that did anything. I think it was his willpower getting honed and shaping his muscles.

Douma: I had to focus when I acquired new skills too, like breaking down poisons. A lot of sad, lowly demons, like that Hand Demon fellow? They focus as hard as they can in their desperation, or focus on some strong emotion or attachment or whatever, and they grow and develop because of it. Sometimes all their weak bodies can manage is an ugly mutation, but that’s proof enough of how much focus they had.

Gotou: That sheds a lot of light on Nezuko, actually.

Douma: Shed “light” on Nezuko-chan, hahaha! Sunlight! You humans are all so witty!

Gotou: Speaking of willpower, I’ve got one more interview I need to get to down here. Of all the demons I have records of, only Nezuko went her whole time as a demon without consuming any human flesh, although she did go through moments of berserk cravings for it. It’s possible that other demons were killed before they could consume anything, but typically they will consume flesh as soon as possible, which is why its common for their family and close relations to be among the first ones killed. Tomioka-san even mentioned in Chapter 1 that these close relations are especially nutritious.

Gotou: A demon about as old as Kokushibou, if not older, is a special case of her own. She was one of the only demons we know of to have escaped Kibutsuji’s curse and acted in dependently of him, including having created a demon of her own after two hundred years of trying. Most notably to our purposes, she trained herself to subsist on small amounts of blood, after having survived on corpses and wild animals for a time, according to the extensive Taisho Secrets at the end of Volume 21.

Tamayo: I explained this in more detail to Tanjirou-san in Chapter 15, but I went on to purchase blood from poor people, and extracted it in ways that wouldn’t be harmful to them. The one demon I created, Yushirou, could subsist on even less. I gained enough self-control that I could treat injured humans without feeling tempted into a berserk state.

Gotou: I was just talking to Douma about willpower making demons capable of accomplishing new physical developments. Was that how you were able to gain this state? I heard you even enjoy a cup of tea now and then.

Tamayo: Yes, I’ve taken a liking to it. I’d offer you some if not for this, you know, being hell. It’s nothing like the hell I went through when first resisting consuming humans, though. My demon body refused to take anything but fresh human flesh at first, but in the hardest moments, I always remembered a kind demon hunter who said he believed in me and my desire to defeat Kibutsuji Muzan. I believe Nezuko may have summoned her strength to resist the call of her demon cells in a similar way; she knew she had her brother there to rely on. Once she mastered something as remarkable as resisting the need for human flesh, it gave her the freedom to prioritize other developments.

Gotou: You spent centuries researching demon cells, especially how demons may break down and metabolize poisons.

Tamayo: I had not studied the metabolism of poisons until working with Shinobu-san. The medicine we concocted for Kibutsuji was only possible thanks to her work, and I couldn’t had worked with many of those wisteria-based substances on my own. I feel I was only there to fill in the gaps of her brilliant understanding.

Gotou: You’re very humble. I would pass along my thanks and compliments to Shinobu-sama too, but I’m pretty sure she’s not down here. On that note, did Genya-kun go back home?

Tamayo: He did after a nice reunion with his mother just now, it was very sweet. Shizu-san and I get along well, after all, we both carry similar guilt.

Gotou: Wait, was his mother a demon? That means Wind-sama’s mother was too? Wait?? What??

Tamayo: The worst hell I went through, or that any demon has gone through, is to realize what you’ve eaten after the hunger-driven madness clears. Being similar to your own cells, they’re easy on a volatile new anatomy to break down and digest. That’s why many demons may have driven themselves to forget everything all over again, or to twist their personalities to justify the horror, saying that because they ate the hearts of their loved ones and because demon flesh can live forever, then they never truly killed them. The truth always remained untwisted for me, and to this day, it torments me more than anything in this underworld can try.

Gotou: …

Tamayo: You should wake up now, Gotou. You’ve been through a lot; the nightmares must be taxing on your health. Please remember to eat well.

[myloversgone]

Sweet Love - an AU!Dean x Reader fanfiction - Chapter 3

Series summary: After twenty years apart, Dean and Y/N meet again. They both have successful careers, but he wishes to change some things in his life.

Series warnings: +18, smut. DO NOT read if you’re underage. Angst; language; cheating; body shaming (be careful if that can be a trigger to you!).

Parings: AU!Dean x Reader; AU!Dean x Y/N; Dean x female!Reader; Dean x Angelica Styne (OFC); Sam x Jess.

Chapter warnings: Language. Angst. Dirty thoughts. Cheating. Making out, but nothing heavy.

Chapter summary: Y/N finds in Jessica an ally and a friend to help her understand Dean’s reasons. When her car breaks in the middle of a trip, Y/N has to call a mechanic and ask for help.

Word count: 4,600~

A/N: This is the third part of a multi-chapter series I’m currently working on. It will probably have around 5 chapters. It’s an Alternative Universe story, so there’s no hunting involved. I tried to keep the characters as canon as possible, though.

Feedback is always highly appreciated! Happy reading :)

A/N 2: Sorry it took me so long to post this! I struggled a little with the ending of this part, and real life got in the way of my plans to finish it when I wanted to. 

There’s a passage about a broken car in this chapter, and I’m really sorry if it came out too vague or if I wrote something that doesn’t make sense. I know absolutely nothing about cars.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

A/N 3: I had to make a new header for this chapter, because I couldn’t not include some pics of a greasy, one layered Dean on that story, could I? 

READ CHAPTER 1        READ CHAPTER 2

---------------------------------------------- Monday, after lunch

“Jessica! Nice to see you”, Y/N greeted, surprised, when Sam’s wife entered the bakery.

“Hey, Y/N”. Jessica smiled, walking towards the counter to give the other woman a quick hug.

“Do you have a minute? I came for a brownie and to chat with you, if you’re up to it”, Jessica asked, placing her purse on a table nearby and looking around. The place was mostly empty; the only clients were an old man sitting close to the window, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, and two girls occupying the far corner table, giggling and typing fast on their phones while eating cake.

“Yeah, sure! Just gimme a minute, I’m gonna fix us some coffee and get you that brownie”, Y/N winked, taking off her apron and walking towards the kitchen.

Less than five minutes later, the women sat together, drinking their coffees.

“First of all, thanks for coming on Saturday. Sam was right, you are very cool”, said Jessica.

“Aw, no, thank you! Your house is beautiful and I had such a good time”, Y/N thanked back, grateful for Jessica’s kindness.

“We had a great time too, but I feel like it would’ve been better for you if it wasn’t for Angelica’s behavior. I’m sorry about that”.

Y/N chuckled. “You’re the third person to apologize for it. Funny thing though, is that none of the other two were her”, she shook her head, Dean’s fiancee’s harsh words echoing in her mind.

“Yeah, and that’s why I’m here, ‘cause I know she won’t come and apologize to you. I assume one of the other people was Dean?”, Jessica questioned.

“Yes, he texted me yesterday to say he was sorry”. Y/N fought the tears she felt pooling. She had already cried enough after she had to tell Dean they should stop seeing each other. Jessica probably wasn’t aware of that part of the story, so she wouldn’t touch the subject yet.

Jessica’s brows furrowed in confusion. “He texted? He didn’t come and talk to you in person?, she asked, surprised to know Dean would act in such a way.

“He- he wanted to come, but-”, Y/N stuttered, torn between telling Jess the truth or coming up with a lie, knowing that, if she chose the former, she would probably end up crying. She hasn't talked to anyone about last night.

The blonde woman could tell Y/N was struggling. Being the smart woman she is, Jessica noticed the chemistry between Dean and Y/N at the night of the dinner. Plus, Sam told her his brother had a crush on the woman when they were teens. So she quickly connected the dots and realized there was more to it than Angelica’s behavior. 

“Let me guess: you told him you should stop seeing each other?”, Jessica questioned, to Y/N’s astonishment.

“How-?”

“Look, Y/N, I love Dean as if he was my own brother, and I know him well. I’ve seen the way he was looking at you that night. It was the first time I’ve seen Dean with puppy eyes. So I figured there was something going on between you two”.

Y/N felt her stomach churn. It felt good to know somebody else noticed the way Dean looked at her. At least now she knew she wasn’t reading his signals wrong. But, at the same time, she couldn’t let Jess think he was cheating on his fiancée. She had to clarify things.

“There’s nothing going on between us. Not- not that he… not that we don’t want to. But he’s engaged, he has Angelica, and he needs to work on his relationship-”

“Let me stop you right there”, Jessica raised her hand, interrupting Y/N. “First of all, I don’t think Dean and Angelica’s relationship has much fixing. They were never right for each other to begin with. When I introduced them, as you know, it was during our firm’s party, and I did it just ‘cause she was new, she didn’t know anyone yet, and I didn’t want her to be alone on her first social gathering at her new job. I was trying to be nice. For me, it was obvious then and it’s obvious now they shouldn’t be together. And their current problems prove just that”.

Y/N sighed, thinking about what to say next. Jessica was being so friendly, but she was afraid to cross a line.They’ve only known each other for a few weeks. On the other hand, there wasn’t much to hide at this point, so she decided to send cautiousness to hell.

“Look, Jessica, I know we’ve just met, and I don’t want to put you in an awkward position. I don’t know if we should be talking about that, and I feel so embarrassed you notice something was going on. God, what a mess!”, she hid her face in her hands, feeling the guilt rising inside her.

“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed! It’s not your fault! Actually, it’s nobody’s fault. We like who we like, and you clearly like Dean a lot. What Angelica did on Saturday, she used you to provoke him. From where I’m standing, she’s doing everything she can to force him to end their engagement, but it’s not my place to say anything to my brother-in-law”. Jessica reached across the table for Y/N’s hand, holding it. “I came here to say sorry about Angelica, but I also came to say I’m your friend, Y/N. Sam loves you, he trusts you 100%, and my husband is an excellent judge of character. So, if you’re a friend of Sam’s, you’re my friend too. ‘Sides, I was never Angelica’s biggest fan”, she confessed, making Y/N chuckle.

“Thank you, Jess. God, you can’t imagine how much it means to me to hear you say those things. Thank you for being so understanding”. Y/N squeezed the woman’s hand, glad for having her trust.

“You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to understand why Dean ‘s doing that, why he’s trying to fix things with Angelica. He doesn’t simply give up on things, on people. It’s the same with Sam. It’s a Winchester thing. Dean made a commitment to her, and he will try to live by it. So, know this is not ‘cause of you. He must feel like he’s failing now, but soon he’ll realize it takes two to make it work, and Angelica isn’t even trying. Plus, believe me, Y/N: he already knows he’s better with you”. Jessica winked.

Y/N couldn’t hold her tears anymore. They were running free now. She wished things were easier for Dean. It hurt to know how hard it all must be for him. 

“Gosh, Jess, I like Dean so much. The connection we have, I felt it since day one, when we were kids. I know he’s it for me, but I can’t make things even harder for him”, she used her free hand to clean some of the tears staining her cheeks.

“I think you made the right call, sweetie. He has to solve this mess for himself, it’s better if you stay away. Don’t hurt yourself more”.

“Do you know if he’s talked to Sam since Saturday?”, Y/N asked, knowing the brothers confided everything to each other.

“Oh, he’s coming by our house tonight. I bet that’s exactly what they’re gonna talk about. I’m gonna stay away, though, ‘cause I don’t wanna come between the Winchester brothers. They’re joined at the hip, I’m sure you’re aware. So I say, let them do their thing”, Jessica shrugged, smiling.

 Y/N laughed softly. “Yeah, you’re right. They really are”.

Jessica sighed. “I have to go now, but please, call me if you need anything. In the meantime, if I were you, I would just give it some time. Dean will come back, ‘cause it’s you he wants”, she assured, leaving behind a hopeful, teary Y/N.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Monday night

“So, tell me what’s going on”, Sam asked, right after his brother joined him at the back porch of his and Jessica’s house. Beer in hand, he took a big gulp before looking at Dean, who sat by his side, holding his own drink.

“What? There’s nothing going on. Just the usual”, Dean lied, acting like he didn’t know what Sam was asking.

“Bullshit. You can’t tell me everything’s ok after what happened at dinner last Saturday”. Sam knew his brother too well. Dean was distracted at work all day, and him coming to his house for beers on a Monday, it wasn’t his usual behavior.

“Yeah, that was… fucked up, to say the least”. The oldest brother shook his head, still angry about everything Angelica did, during and after dinner, when he tried to talk to her.

“Man, I know it’s none of my business, but… you’re my brother, and I care about you, so I have to ask. Why are you and Angelica still together?”, Sam questioned in that exasperated way of his, trying to make Dean see the mistake he was making.

“I don’t know, dude. You know she wasn’t like this. Not at the beginning. I don’t know if she’s jealous or-”

“She’s not jealous, and you know it. She’s been mistreating you for a while now, you’ve said it yourself. And then she mistreated Y/N to hurt you. C’mon, Dean”. Sam had been noticing for a long time how miserable his brother was. His engagement was going bad, and Dean was putting all of his efforts in saving a relationship that should never have even started.

Dean remained silent, staring at the trees on the edge of his brother’s backyard. He knew Sam was right, but he felt like he failed. He felt like it was his fault that his engagement with Angelica wasn’t working anymore. Hasn't he made enough of an effort to keep her happy? Should he have listened to her when she said he should work out and give up on being a mechanic to work behind a desk?

And then Y/N came. Things were already bad before they moved Lawrence, before he went to her bakery for the first time. The time he’d spent with her showed him what it was like to be around someone who wouldn’t judge him, who wouldn’t measure his every move all the time. Y/N listened to him. She was always kind and she seemed to genuinely think his business with Sam was a huge accomplishment, something he should be proud of, the result of his hard work. Opening the first garage was his idea, after all. Y/N knew it, and Angelica too. But his fiancée never gave it much thought, unless he would decide to be a businessman, a manager, and never get grease on his clothes again.

It was Sam’s voice who brought Dean back from his own head. 

“And speaking of Y/N, what ‘re you gonna do about her, huh?”.

“What do you mean?”, Dean was confused.

Sam scoffed. “Well, you obviously like her. She obviously likes you. So I’m asking how long are you gonna insist on your engagement, when you could have something good and real with Y/N?”

Dean took a sip of his beer, closing his eyes and just tasting the liquid for a second, before he stubbornly answered to his brother. “I need to at least try with Angelica, Sammy. It’s my fault we’re like this. I have to try”.��

Sam shook his head, knowing it was impossible to convince Dean at this point. He would have to realize he was wrong by himself.

“It’s your happiness that’s at stake, man. You’re making a mistake”. He had to at least try.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three weeks later

Y/N felt relieved when she got into her car after crossing the huge parking lot on that hot Sunday afternoon.

She just left the convention center in Columbia, Missouri, where she went visiting a culinary fair, searching for innovations and upgrades for the bakery. She’d made lots of connections and met other chefs from Kansas who were also there, which made her excited and full of ideas for her business.

As she started the car and turned the air conditioner on, she heard a weird noise coming from the engine. Everything seemed to be working fine, though, and there weren't any warning lights on the dashboard, so she left on her way back to Lawrence.

With the radio on, she didn’t notice the weird noise getting louder. To make it worse, her GPS led her to a backroad in the middle of nowhere, one she didn’t know, but she foolishly decided to follow, since it said it was a shorter way home.

Halfway through the backroad, a screeching noise made Y/N push the breaks, jolting the car to a stop. 

“Oh, shit! What the hell?”, she looked at the dashboard, as if she was expecting the answer to appear there. It didn’t.

She tried to start the car again, but nothing happened when she turned the key. Okay, she thought, I just need to find a tow service nearby. It 's fine.

Grabbing her phone, she googled “tow service nearby”, and found out there was only one, less than 30 minutes away. Typing the name of the company, she cursed to herself when she read it was closed on Sundays.

“Great”. Evaluating her options, she realized there weren’t many. She knew nothing about cars and engines. Until her dad passed, he was the one to help her with those things, and after that, she just had to rely on a good mechanic. 

In vain, she tried to start the car once more, only out of stubborness, knowing it wouldn’t magically fix itself. Looking at her phone, she knew there was only one person who could help: Dean.

She didn’t want to call him, though, for obvious reasons. Plus, it was Sunday, his one day off. But what was she going to do? Trying to take a ride with a driver who may or may not pass through that deserted road didn’t seem like a viable - or safe - option. If she left her car there, how could she know someone wouldn’t steal it? She couldn’t afford a new car, not now that she needed every dollar she had to invest in the bakery. Yep, that was it. She would have to call Dean.

His phone rang twice before she heard his surprised voice on the other side of the line.

“Y/N, hey”.

“Hi, Dean. I’m really, really sorry to be calling you on a Sunday, but I need your help”.

“OK. Is everything alright?”

“Not really. I was coming back from Missouri, I went there to visit a culinary fair, but my car stopped working and I’m in the middle of nowhere”. 

“Oh”. 

“The GPS says I’m 45 minutes away from home, and there’s not a single tow service around here. Could you- could you maybe come help me?”. Y/N asked, blushing. What an awful situation. I ask him to stay back and then I have to call him to save me like I’m a damsel in distress. Pathetic. She reprimanded herself. 

“Of course, sweetheart. Let me just grab some tools and I’ll be there in 30. Just stay close to the car, ok? Just to be safe”, Dean advised.

“Are you sure you’re not too busy? Maybe I could ask Sam or…”

“No. I wasn’t doing anything important. Don’t worry. Text me your location. Hang in there, ok?”

“Okay, I will. Thanks”. 

35 minutes later, she raised her head when she heard the sound of the Impala’s engine approaching. Y/N took a deep breath, realizing how tense she’d been since her car stopped. She was starting to be scared of being alone in the middle of nowhere, even with the sun still up.

Dean hadn’t even properly parked his car in front of hers and she was already apologizing to him before he had the chance to say hi.

“Dean, I’m so sorry to bother, I didn’t know who to call-”

“Hey”, he approached her, placing his hands on her bare upper arms. “It ’s ok. I really wasn’t doing anything important”. Dean smiled, reassuring her. He acted like nothing had happened. Like there hadn’t been three weeks since they last talked. In fact, he seemed happy she called him.

Y/N sighed deeply, calming herself a little. “Okay, then. Thanks for coming”.

“Don’t thank me yet. Let’s see if I can fix your car first. Tell me what happened”.

She told him the whole story - from the weird noise when she started the car back at the fair’s parking lot to the screeching sound before it completely stopped working. While Y/N talked, Dean opened the hood and quickly assessed the situation before he started working.

The heat was cooking their brains on the side of the road. After only ten minutes or so, Y/N was already sweating on her summer dress. Apparently, it was too hot for Dean too. When she looked at him, he was taking his blue and white flannel shirt off, leaving just his gray t-shirt on. 

Sitting on the hood of the Impala, she took her time to watch him work. He was bent over the engine, giving her a front-row seat to look at his strong back. Y/N felt entranced by the way his muscles moved under the gray fabric that clung to him like a second skin. His sweat was darkening the collar and the center of the t-shirt, accentuating the dip of his spine.

Dean’s movements were making his biceps bulge, and Y/N’s gaze traveled from the grease on his arms, to the freckles scattered all over his tanned skin. She felt her lower parts clenching with the idea of being held by those arms. Squirming on the warm hood, she thought I bet he could fuck me standing up. He’s strong enough to hold me against a wall. 

The distant sound of a horn on a nearby road startled her and brought her back to reality. Her forehead was sweaty. She remembered she had a bottle of water in her car and quickly got up to get it, hoping the cold liquid would push away her dirty thoughts about Dean.

When Y/N walked by him, Dean raised his head. “I’ll be done here in fifteen minutes, maybe a little more”, he announced.

She got the water and went back to him, standing by his side. After taking a big gulp, she extended the bottle in his direction. “Do you want some water?”.

He nodded and picked the bottle from her hand, drinking half of it, trying not to think about the fact that he was tasting her lips on it. 

Y/N watched him drinking the water. Even the way his throat moved every time he swallowed the liquid was sexy. She followed a drop of sweat falling from his jaw to the side of his neck, and she wanted to lick it, to taste him with her tongue.

“Thanks”, Dean gave the bottle back to her, wiping his mouth on the back of his wrist.

She nodded and smiled, flushed. “I’ll be sitting here while you finish with the car. Please, tell me if there’s anything I can do to help”.

Dean hummed in agreement, watching her walk to the Impala. He got back to work with the image of Y/N glued to his mind. He didn’t know if it was the heat affecting his brain, but he was having a hard time ignoring how sexy she looked in her flowery sleeveless summer dress. 

The piece of clothing was adjusted to her breasts and waist, and the skirt was flowy, giving it a 50s vibe. The blue fabric was adorned with flowers, matching the pattern of her tattoos. It was doing amazing things for her silhouette. Not that Dean thought she needed it. She definitely doesn’t need it. Her body is perfect, all curvy and gorgeous, he thought. I bet she looks even better naked.

He felt the front of his jeans tightening. Jesus, man, focus! Finish fixing her car so you both can get out of this heat.

After stopping to discreetly adjust his pants a couple of times, he managed to finish fixing the car in a little more than ten minutes.

"All done! It should be good to get you home, at least. Then I'm gonna need you to leave it at the garage so I can take a better look tomorrow. Is that ok?", Dean asked, walking to Y/N, who was again sitting on the hood of his car.

"Sure, that's fine. Thank you", she opened her purse and grabbed a small package of Kleenex, handing it to Dean so he could clean the grease from his hands and arms, watching as he did so. 

After he was finished, she noticed a smudge on his forehead.

"You missed a spot. Come here", she called, motioning for him to come closer to her so she could help him clean it.

He stepped in closer, standing right between her legs, and she slid forward on the hood so she could better reach his forehead.

Dean leaned down a little, using the car as support and placing his hands on each side of her. Y/N held onto his shoulder with one hand while she used the other to wipe his face. They were so close she could feel his breath fanning over her skin. When she finished, their eyes met and Dean moved one of his hands from the hood of the car to her thigh. Y/N's breath quickened, and she placed her palm on his cheek, holding his face.

The man didn't think twice before leaning forward and locking his lips with hers. She looked too good, too hot sitting on his car on that beautiful day. It was like every fantasy he had about her was materializing in front of his face. Dean felt even warmer when she kissed him back, her soft lips opening, inviting him to taste her mouth, to drink her up like a thirsty man.

Y/N felt his stubble on her fingertips as they kissed. Dean's lips were as soft as she'd imagined, and she could taste the minty flavor from the gum he chewed before. She couldn't help but moan when he deepened the kiss, his hand squeezing her thigh while the other traveled to the other side of her body, grabbing her waist and then getting closer to her breast.

They had to part for air, but Dean didn't want to take his lips off of her, so he nibbled her jaw and then descended to the soft skin of her neck. Y/N was holding him by the nape of his neck, keeping his face close. She didn’t want to let him go either. He hissed when she slipped her hand under the hem of his t-shirt, feeling the muscles on his stomach, his smooth skin slightly damp with sweat.

It was only when Y/N realized Dean’s hand somehow ended up under her dress, at the top of her naked thigh and dangerously close to the side of her panties, that her brain started to work again and she got a hold of what they were doing.

"Dean", she breathlessly called. "We need to stop".

He reluctantly removed his hand from her leg and took a step back, his pupils dilated with lust.

“I’m not gonna say I’m sorry for what just happened, Y/N”, Dean said, approaching her again. “I wanna be with you. I’m sure of it”.

She closed her eyes, struggling to think straight after he took her breath away. But she had to stay firm. “Then you have to talk to Angelica. I’m not gonna be the other woman, Dean”, she stated, her expression showing how serious she was. 

“I know. You don’t deserve that”, he held her face between his hands, looking right into her eyes. “I want you so bad. If I could, I would have you right here, right now”. Dean couldn’t help but kiss her again, his tongue invading her mouth, his soft lips enclosing hers, leaving no space for her to breath or escape his hold. Not that she wanted to.

Y/N understood. She knew. She wanted him as fiercely as he wanted her. The last weeks they’ve been apart were like hell to her. She missed him every single day. There was a hole in her heart only him could fill.

Breaking the kiss, she lightly bit his full lower lip, his taste lingering on her tongue. “I know, De. I want you too. But this mess, it needs to end. If- if you really wanna be with me, then I’ll be waiting for you to make things right”. She felt tears pooling in her eyes. She was scared, but she wanted to believe there was a possibility of them being together, finally.

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned her face against his big hand, feeling the warmth of it caressing her skin. “Then I promise you. I promise I’ll fix things today”. Dean caught with his thumb a tear that was running down her cheek.

Y/N hugged him tight, burying her face in his neck and inhaling the delicious smell of his skin. “Can we go home now?”, she asked, voice choking.

“Yes, sweetheart. Let 's go home”.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

They drove back to Lawrence and, as promised, Y/N left her car at the garage so Dean could fix it properly.

She hugged Dean goodbye, his embrace so comforting and secure, it made her want him to hold her forever. 

“I’m gonna talk to Angelica today. I’ll let you know how things went, ok? Then tomorrow we can talk, see what we’re gonna do about… us”, he promised. Y/N nodded and left, walking the short distance to her apartment.

Dean was dreading the conversation he was about to have with Angelica. Before he left to help Y/N with her car, he was at the garage. It was his place to go when he needed time to think. It was quiet there, making it easier for him to clear his head while working on a car - a client’s or Baby - or cleaning his tools. 

He didn’t even know how to start talking to his fiancée. There’d been months since the last time they sat and talked for more than five minutes without her having to leave for something work related. To be honest, sometimes he was the one to leave, because he couldn’t bear the awkward silence between them. Dean realized there’s been a long time since he and Angelica had something to talk about. She rarely shared things about her work, even though he asked multiple times, and everytime he mentioned something about his job, her disinterest was obvious. 

So they were now at a point where they didn’t really know each other anymore. Have we ever had?, Dean thought to himself, trying to understand why he thought Angelica was the right woman for him. 

She wants me to be someone I’m not. I don’t wanna be the person Angelica needs. I wanna be the person Y/N sees when she looks at me. 

He grabbed his keys and went back to his car, ready to go home and fulfill the promise he made to Y/N.

To be continued…

-------------------------------------------

If you came this far, thank you for sticking up with me! Wanna be tagged on this series or on all of my Dean fics? Or maybe you’re tagged and don’t wanna be anymore? That’s ok! Just let me know either way :)

Sweet Love taglist:  @leigh70; @deandreamernp; @deanwanddamons; @nancymcl; @ladysparkles78; @jtink27; @ladysparkles78; @tatted-trina6; @barewithme02; @taetertotsv; @stixnstripesworld.

All Dean fics taglist: @sexyvixen7; @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​. 

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Dance, Dance

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: there’s been too much going on ever since you started messing around with your best friend.

Pairings: Colin Shea x Black!Best Friend!Reader

Warnings: minors dni, smut, angst, fluff

(A/N: yaaaay it’s done. This was a fun little series. I loved writing it. Titled after the song Dance, Dance by Fall Out Boy. Thanks everyone that enjoyed. Like, follow, reblog, and comment ☺️)

»»——————————-　♡　—————-————-««

You didn’t even know it was possible for you to fake smile for this long. As much as you enjoyed doing the whole music thing, industry shit was kind of the worse. You’d been overdue for at least a glass of champagne, but now you needed something stronger like whisky.

Things had been hectic lately. Just getting stuff ready and playing ball. The label that signed you was a smaller offshoot of a bigger one and so now you were here watching Colin take one for the team and schmooze it up since he knew the rest of you hated this part.

It wasn’t like you were bad at the whole thing. It’s just there was only so much you could deal with before finally reaching your limit. And all the old men ogling you was definitely something you could live without.

“Hey,” Ryan, your bass player, greeted as he sat beside you. It was kind of funny seeing the rest of them in suits and shit. You didn’t think they could wear anything but jeans and converse.

Hell for Colin clothing was already optional. Now he was there wearing a suit. Playing the part. And doing it well. You couldn’t lie, though. He looked good as hell. Obviously you weren’t the only one to notice. The woman whispering in his ear right no clearly saw it too.

“Hey,” you said with a sigh. This dress was scratchy as hell, but it was cute. It was probably worth more than your rent so you were really trying to not mess it up. Fuck you felt awkward.

So, yeah things had been a little weird since they’d walked in on you on Colin’s lap. Not that they could see that his pants had been undone from how you were but let’s just say the rest of the band had been doing this thing where they’d been trying to figure out your couple name ever since.

Still you didn’t know how to act around them. Especially since you’d left like your ass was on fire. Unlike with the whole girlfriend thing, the two of you didn’t get the chance to talk even a little after that. It felt like life was pulling the both of you in so many directions what were you even supposed to say. Sure the guys managed to squeeze their jokes in but other than that nothing.

You’d had photo shoots and meetings and just all kinds of shit. Sure this was definitely the life you wanted and you kind of appreciated the distraction. Didn’t mean you wanted to keep living in limbo with him. So it’s not like you’d been avoiding him so much as finding the time to have serious conversations was kind of not there.

At the same time it’s like were you even prepared for whatever he had to say. You don’t give a guy head and then make out with him for him to stop and start with ‘I just don’t think-‘ and expect him to say something not terrible. Especially not a guy like Colin. Even if you were holding out hope.

You knew his track record going into it. Which is why those rules had been in place. You’d been around a thousand Colin’s. You knew how it went. It was hit it and quit it every time. What made you different. If he really wanted to talk he would have. Nothing had ever kept him from telling you dumb shit all the time. Suddenly he couldn’t text?

Whatever. You didn’t even want to care. This was about the music. It was your fault anyway. You’d known better than to get tangled up in him but you’d done it anyway. You’d just have to live with that.

“So what are we doing tomorrow?” He asked.

You shrugged with a sigh. “I dunno. Was just thinking about keeping a low profile. I’m not really feeling it right now.”

Ryan frowned. “You know Colin doesn’t care,” he replied with a chuckle. “You know how he gets.”

“That’s fine,” you replied with a small smile with a shrug, bringing your glass of whiskey up to your lips. Thank goddess for an open bar, though, right. At least that would help you through the night.

“Okay so,” Colin said finally coming over to plop down beside you on a barstool,“how we feeling about an after party?”

You shrugged while him and Ryan started talking it over. If anything you’d probably go back to the hotel but whatever.

You rested your chin on your fists as the boys talked. It’s not that you wanted to be sad girl right now. You should be the happiest you’d ever been and you were but fuck this is gonna sound so lame but you missed your best friend. But no you forgot to wear underwear and now apparently neither of you knew how to act around each other.

“What about you?” He asked. “You know we’re no good without our fearless leader.”

“I thought this was a party,” you said setting your glass down. “I didn’t realize I was leading you into battle.”

Colin chuckled. “Oh it’s us against the world, Baby. There’s always a war.” He winked as he grabbed your glass. Not even phased when you protested and made grabby hands for it. “I’ll get you a new one if you say yes.”

“Eat a dick,” you grumbled then tried to get the bartender’s attention.

“Who pissed in your iced coffee?” He asked with a chuckle. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Better than whatever the fuck this is.” Can’t argue with that.

You shrugged. “I’ll see. I’m kinda tired.”

He pouted. “Don’t be a party pooper. Come on. Don’t you wanna hang with us. Keep us out of trouble.”

“Keep him out of trouble,” Ryan corrected making you laugh.

“Yes. Fine. Keep me out of trouble.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on. I’ll make it worth it.”

“How?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well,” he started as he thought, “I’m already taking you out for breakfast tomorrow so that’s out.”

“You are?” You asked with a chuckle. This was news to you.

“Um, duh,” he said before poking your side. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. It’s not that serious.”

Colin sighed, rolling his eyes. “Come on. I promise it’ll be fun.” He nudged you. Then his face softened. “Do you really not wanna go?”

No, but even though you were irritated with him you still felt like a lovesick puppy. And his eyes had gotten all romantic looking. It was so hard not giving in to him.

That’s how you found yourself out in the New York air. Crossing your arms in front of you. “What’s this?” You asked as you walked up to a limo.

“Our ride,” he said, into your ear.

“Hey, Colin,” the woman greeted him with a smile as she walked passed to get in. “You coming?”

He had the nerve to smile at you all brightly as he grabbed your arm. “Isn’t this cool,” he said as he sat beside her. You on the other side of him. Why didn’t you just go back to the fucking hotel when you had the chance.

The entire way to the party was filled with them laughing and talking. The entire time you were thinking say something, anything, but no you sat there awkward as hell. Ryan and your drummer James were sort of trying to include you while your rhythm guitarist Parker had decided to go to the hotel. You wish you’d just gone with him. You knew that’d be your first mistake.

You hated being in such a sour mood. Especially with so many people around. “You want a drink or something?” Colin asked into your ear, trying to talk over the loud music. You sighed, putting on another smile on as you nodded.

You tried to follow behind him, but this place was crowded. Looking back you saw that Ryan and James were no longer next to you either. Shit. Way to make this situation better, right.

Well Colin was right at least. This was better than that place crawling in suits. You walked along trying to find at least one of the men you came with and you were officially over it. Then you saw the balcony and decided to check out there next.

The fresh air was kind of nice. Maybe you just needed to clear your head for a minute. Hell you were ready to go to bed anyway.

Maybe tomorrow you’ll spend the day in the city. Doing whatever you wandered upon. No thinking about the next few months and how everything’s going to go from zero to one hundred. Not that you weren’t looking forward to it, but for now you wanted to welcome a little bit of peace.

Hopefully there’d be no thoughts about a certain guitar player either. That you doubt, but you could try. You yawned and groaned. Fuck it you’re leaving.

“Of all the people I thought I might see tonight,” a familiar voice said before you could get inside.

That voice made you stiffen. Then you started groaning as you turned to face him. “As if my night couldn’t get any worse. What are you even doing here?”

“What you think you’re the only one that gets invited to parties?” He asked.

When you’d parted from your last band, it wasn’t exactly the nicest situation. You always made your rule clear even if you’d broke it with Colin. Even with him it’s not like he did what Andrew did.

Things had been going okay with them, but it was nothing like now. This time around it felt so real. Like musically you were meant to be. Maybe that’s why you didn’t want to ruin things by blowing up even if Colin was sending you enough mixed signals to write an album about.

Back then though. It wasn’t like this. Yeah you liked your other bandmates back then, but with Colin, Ryan, and James it almost felt like a family. You all meshed. You all got along. Despite everything going on you loved them.

With Andrew’s band there was never a connection. You played. You went home. Over and done with. So the night he corned you, trying to kiss you it came out of nowhere. When you told the rest of them didn’t care. You were replaceable. Then you saw that flyer and decided to say fuck it and quit.

“What are you doing here?” He asked now, taking out a cigarette.

You shrugged. “That’s none of your business.”

He scoffed. “Heard you guys got signed. Who’d you sleep with to manage that?”

“Well, it wasn’t you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Who you here with? The new guys you’re blowing?”

You clenched your jaw before taking a deep breath. He didn’t know. Who the fuck cares. So you started walking away because you really did not give two shits.

“Yeah, my friend Dina was telling me you fucked her ex,” he said.

Your back stiffened as you stopped. Closing your eyes. God you wanted to scream at him, but he wasn’t worth the trouble. Wasn’t worth causing a scene. That’s what you told yourself last time and that’s what you were telling yourself now.

“Yeah said she walked in on you too,” he said coming up behind you.

“Dina doesn’t know what what she’s talking about.” You took a deep breath then bit your tongue, but still didn’t turn to face him.

“Well she sure had a lot to say. About how much of a whore you turned into after being a little tease.”

You closed your eyes suddenly feeling sick. You shouldn’t let it get to you. You knew it but fuck. This is why you didn’t do this. You didn’t need the drama.

“Dude, fuck off,” you finally said wrapping your arms around yourself as tried walking away again, trying to tune out whatever shit was spewing out of his mouth.

Promising yourself that you wouldn’t cry. Eyes finally catching Colin’s as he did a grin spread and then quickly fell from his face. Standing around the same girl from earlier. At least he managed to keep up with her.

He started walking towards you without a word and seeing his way was the only way towards the exit there was no avoiding him. That’s when you felt fingers grabbing at your wrist. Twisting your arm so you had no choice but to face him.

In between the, “you little sl-“ and Colin pushing him away from you, you’d ended knocking into someone. Beer spilling on the front of your dress. Way to make a shitty moment even worse guys. This was a fucking loan. Thanks for that. Fuck tonight just wasn’t your night huh.

“I’m so sorry,” a drunk girl slurred, putting her hands on your shoulders.

“No it’s okay,” you sighed feeling your eyes prickle with tears. Fuck you hated it. Your chest suddenly feeling tight. You had to get the fuck out of here.

As soon as you made it to the elevator you took a deep breath. Closing your eyes and leaning down the wall as the doors closed.

“What the hell was that?” Colin said. You squeezed your eyelids. The little bit of frustration that had left, coming back in an instant. “Did he hurt you?” He asked, grabbing your hand. “What the hell happened?”

“Stop,” you said, snatching it away. “Just… stop.” Your heart felt like it was sinking into your chest. You just wanted to eat and shower snd sleep. Fine fuck it. Shower and sleep. You’ll eat in the morning. You just wanted Colin to stop following you and for him to shut up.

“Hey!” He stopped you as soon as you got off. “What’s wrong? Just tell me what happened.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to pretend to care okay.” You shrugged. “You weren’t thinking about me ten minutes ago.”

“What do you mean I was looking all over for you,” he said furrowing his eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes again. Ugh it felt like you couldn’t stop. “Yeah, it sure looked like it.”

“I was. You can ask Ryan and James. Alyssa was helping me.”

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid, Colin?” You asked raising your eyebrow. “I get it. We messed around and you’re a fuckboy or whatever. It’s not like I was expecting to be different or something. You do this all the time. That’s fine but you don’t have to pretend like you give a shit. And I’m the fucking idiot for thinking you would because I thougt-” your voice broke as you just shook your head and walked away.

Colin stood there looking stunned. Feeling like he was one second away from puking. Finally taking a deep breath when he realized that if he didn’t catch up to you know you’d get into a taxi without him.

“Wait, Y/N,” he called out.

But you didn’t turn around. Heart thumping in your chest. You blew out your cheeks and rested your head against the window. Feeling there was a lump in your throat.

You felt like such a baby. All teary eyed in a cab. Red eyed as you made your way to your room. Crying in the shower. Then not stopping as you settled into bed. And for what. You fucking up the one thing you always told yourself. Listening to your stupid vagina. And your heart as much as you hated to admit it.

Not only was it stressful to think about what this would do for the band, but you and Colin had really built up the best connection. Now what happens. You’re not gonna get that with someone else. And that was the worst part.

Your eyes were so heavy, but you were suddenly so awake. All that complaining about being tired. Now look you can’t even sleep. Your head felt too heavy. Nose too stuffy, too.

You scrolled through your phone. And may or may not have done a small dive into who this Alyssa girl could be. Then message after message started rolling in now that it was a little passed midnight. You’d get to them in the morning. You’d also stole his weed pen so you could relax a little bit.

So. Sucks to be him.

That’s when you heard the door open. Stomach flipping and mouthing, ‘fuck.’ Dropping your phone because if you could pretend you were asleep maybe he’d leave you fuck alone. Ugh he probably got the key from the front desk.

The television was still on and it’s not like he’d never walked in on you sleep in front of the TV before so he’d think nothing of it. Your back was facing the door so it’s not like he could see you. You’ll take your chances.

You heard crinkling and him shuffling a little, but you were mostly trying to be quiet. A few moments later you heard him getting down on his knees beside you. “Hey,” he whispered into your ear before kissing your temple.

Nope. Go away.

“I know you’re awake you little thief.” He chuckled, but then stopped when he realized you clearly weren’t giving in. Turning over away from him. Colin took a deep breath. “Babe, I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrow raised. Okay so maybe you weren’t expecting that.

“I’m sorry I lost you tonight,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for not talking about things sooner. And if I made you think there was anything going on with me and Alyssa. Who does not like me by the way. She’s into Ryan,” he added, with a chuckle.

You snorted out a laugh. “Seriously?” Finally breaking your silence.

“Uh huh.” He laughed. “I know right. They kept dragging me between them once he found out. I felt like I was in fucking middle school.”

Then it got quiet.

“I’m sorry if I made you think you were just a booty call,” he finally said.

Your eyes opened, but you still didn’t turn to face him. You weren’t really sure what you were supposed to say or do if you did.

“You have always been more than a booty call. I get that I’ve done things before, but I’d never treat you like that. Why do you think we haven’t had sex. I couldn’t have our first time be on that gross fucking couch.”

… fair.

Ugh.

UGH.

You wanted to pull his hair. Not even in the sexy way. He was so annoying. Why couldn’t you just have been asleep so you could have been mad at him for a little longer.

Colin didn’t wait for you to respond as he got in behind you. Scooping you into his arms from behind. “You’re my best friend, Baby. I’d never fuck us up. I don’t wanna lose you.” Then he started kissing your cheek softly.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumbled, but still didn’t turn over.

“Maybe,” he said. “But it’s cuz I can’t stand when you’re mad at me.” He sighed wrapping you up in his arms. “Remember that one time? And it was just over lyrics.” He chuckle. Then when he realized you weren’t laughing he sighed again. “I promise I’ll make tomorrow better. Well today. Or whatever. You know what I mean.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t run in here on some I have to be the first shit.” You finally turned to look at him and he was quick to kiss your forehead. Eyes ask puffy. Nosy really stuffy. He didn’t care. Just wanted to have his lips on you.

“I am, but now I can’t stop apologizing.” He chuckled. “I really am sorry.”

“We can work on your road to forgiveness plan.”

“As long as you’re the one paving it I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so corny.”

“Maybe.” He chuckled. “I’m just trying to get you to smile.”

You sniffled. God he was so annoying. “I know.”

He looked at you softly before swiping his lips across yours. “Okay now I’m gonna be the first person. Happy birthday, Baby.”

Another sniffle as you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling softly. “Thank you. How do you know you’re the first?”

“Oh you’re cool because all our little fan girls are wishing you a happy birthday,” he said with a laugh.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Never. You deserve it.”

“Stop being such a fucking sap right now.” You whined pushing him away.

“Nope. I actually have a surprise for you,” he said, letting go so he could get out of bed. “No peeking!” Then he kissed your cheek again.

Of course you weren’t gonna listen, but since he wasn’t made of glass you couldn’t see. His body blocking whatever view you may have had. Just heard the flicker of a lighter.

“So, I was gonna go with the old fashioned flowers and chocolate for an apology,” he started. “But since it’s your birthday,” he said as he turned around with a little cake in his hands, freshly lit numeral candles on top.

As he softly started to sing happy birthday you felt yourself tearing up again. Of course he had to do something like this. Sappy asshole. Just had to make it impossible to stay mad at him.

Now you were sitting with your legs criss crossed applesauce across from him. Not being able to help the smile that spread across your face.

“Make a wish, Baby,” he said. As you blew out the flame he looked at you softly. That same stupid romantic look in his eyes. And it was like you couldn’t help yourself as you started to lean in. Lips connecting and it almost felt relieving. 

Colin pulled away for a minute to set the cake on the night stand. Going back to you he pull you onto his lap. Lips moving against yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck then put your hands in his hair.

He laid you down. Thumb stroking your cheek. Tongues finally meeting. Kisses deep. Now sleep was the farthest thing from your mind. You just wanted to feel him.

All of the thoughts about how that was it had melted away. If he was going to be serious about this than you wanted it. Wanted him. “Colin,” you whimpered. His lips going against your throat.

“What do you want, Baby?” He asked in a whisper.

“You.”

Clothes started to be removed. Hands and lips going to intimate spots. Like between your legs as he made sure your pussy would be ready for him. His mouth touching you just how you needed. Moans and sighs spilling from your lips.

“Y/N, Baby,” he whispered as he wrapped his arm around your leg so he could spread you open for him. Getting snug between your thighs as he lined himself up. “You sure? We don’t have-“

You cut him off with a kiss. He obviously got the message as he started to push into you. The head of his cock already making your head spin.

“Colin,” you whimpered against his lips.

“That’s it,” he said. “It’s okay. I got you.”

You nodded and moaned, foreheads resting against each other. Looking into those soft blue eyes as he inched in. “Ah,” you squeaked.

“You’ve got this,” he whispered into your ear as he finally bottomed out. Staying still for a moment so you could could used to him. Fuck he was big. You don’t think you’d ever felt this full before.

Hips rocking slowly as his lips went back to yours again. “Colin,” you whimpered again.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered as he looked down at you.

“More?”

“Tell me what you do want, Baby. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Harder. Please.” Fuck you felt desperate. He was just filling you up so good. Just how you needed him.

He pressed his lips to yours as he started getting deeper. Rolling his hips into yours. Then pushing your arm above your head with his hands holding yours down.

“Right there!” You pulled away with a gasp.

“Where?” He asked into your ear not stopping what he was doing before pulling your earlobe between his teeth. Nibbling on it. Making your eyes go blurry.

“Oh,” you let out another little squeak. That wasn’t good enough for Colin, though. He wanted you to scream his name.

He raised up off of you. Getting on his knees and pushing your legs up by your ears. Hands on the back of your thighs.

Every time he went in, your body bounced from the force. Pussy squeezing him tight. He looked between you seeing the way your wetness covered him. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Pussy even prettier with my dick in it.”

Why was he doing this to you. Was it not enough that he was about to turn you inside out? He had to talk to you like that too. Why was he trying to ruin you like this. He was fucking you like he wanted to be the only man to fuck you. Maybe he did. Maybe you wanted him to be.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah!” You cried out

“That’s it. That’s what I like to fucking hear. Doing so good for me, Baby,” he groaned. “Gonna fuck you all night. Keep you full a me. Want that?”

“Uh huh,” was all you could say. Your orgasm was hitting you so hard. “Colin. I’m cumming.” It was like you were weeping. “Oh my god.”

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned as your pussy tightened around him. Orgasm gushing out of you. “That’s my girl,” he said as he put his hand on your clit. Coaxing it out even more. “Keep cumming for me, Baby. That’s it.”

It happened so quickly. One minute he was fucking into you and then the next his face was between your thighs. If he was trying to make you squirt he got his wish. Your legs shaking, body spasming as he forced you there.

You covered your eyes with your hand just as he pushed back into you. Where he grabbed your arm to push it up so you were no longer covered. “Don’t you ever cover yourself, you hear me,” he said as he started fucking into you again. “I want you to look at me when I make you cum.” He put his lips against your chin.

Fuck. This was gonna be a long night.

You don’t know how many times you’d orgasmed. Just that it felt like once they started they didn’t stop. Just the way he was getting you there and trying to keep you there was almost too much. As soon as he came in you, you were ready to pass out. Your body officially worn out. But forced yourself to use the bathroom before bed even though walking really didn’t seem like a great option at the moment.

Then you got back in his arms. Snuggling into him. Colin holding you tight. It felt like where you were supposed to be.

As the sunlight broke, you were so worn out that you stayed like that for a minute. Him waking up first with your head tucked under his chin. Yawning and checking the time. Not that he cared. He’d stay like this for as long as you wanted him to.

When you started to stir, he nuzzled you with his nose. Kissing your forehead gently. “Morning, Birthday Girl,” he whispered in a raspy voice.

You moaned and stretched. Putting your head in his neck again. “Not yet.”

He chuckled. “We have to get to brunch.”

“There’s always dinner. I’m tired.”

He smacked your butt. “No, no, no. I’m not letting you sleep the day away. I gotta make up for yesterday.”

“Make up for yesterday by being my pillow. And we can have sex in between.”

Colin laughed softly. “As tempting as that is, we gotta get up.”

You took a deep breath out your nose. “Fine, but I get to pick off your plate.”

“When do you not?” He rubbed your back. Colin reached over to grab his phone to check the time. “Wait, what the fuck,” he chuckled.

“What?” You asked, with a yawn.

“James said, ‘I’m happy for you guys really but we’re going to breakfast without you if you don’t hurry up. Happy birthday y/n.”

You laughed. “What?”

“The one before it was stop having sex we’re hungry. Ryan said, ‘Colin stop being the Yoko Ono of this ba-‘I’m the Yoko On- oh now they’re fighting about it.”

You snorted. “They’re gonna argue about this all day, aren’t they?”

“Yeah probably.” Colin laughed.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

[brandyllyn]

Corroboration

Santiago “Pope” Garcia x f!Reader [no use of y/n]

Summary: Celebrating a new job and trying to keep your relationship a secret from Frankie. Maybe you two should have just stayed in - you always had more fun there.

Theoretically Part 2 of Validation but can be read as a standalone.

My Masterlist

Word count: 5600 (Again. Jesus Christ.) Read it on AO3.

Rating: NC17 (Explicit)

Warnings: language. alcohol. bondage. smut. PiV sex. Oral (m receiving). toys / masturbation.

Awesome gif credit to @nickblaine [please let me know if you’d rather I not use! I’m still learning gif etiquette.]

Santiago was not going to make it through tonight.

It was supposed to be a night to let loose. You had just gotten a job offer and your sister wanted to celebrate. Of course that meant that her husband was there which is how Santi found himself on the other end of Frankie’s assessing gaze on the outdoor patio of a local taqueria. Santi did not know how to properly convey 'I absolutely have not been fucking your sister-in-law' with his face, but he was pretty sure he was doing a piss poor job of it.

It also didn’t help that you kept rubbing your toes along his ankle.

You weren’t supposed to be teasing him. He’d been clear about that the night before. Clear about the promise (now broken) that he had made to Frankie to keep his hands off you. You had rolled your eyes at his confession, pointing out various things such as that you were a 'big girl who could take care of herself' and that Frankie 'wasn’t your dad and even if he was it was none of his business.'

The statements had eased Santi’s guilt a little bit. Your hands wandering into his pants had blown any remaining concerns out of his mind completely. But that was when he was at home, with you curled around him and the taste of you fresh in his mouth. Here, in public, with his friend’s eyes boring holes into his brain, it was different.

"A pitcher for the table?" Andrea, Frankie’s wife, asked. Santi nodded at her. "And tacos?"

"Steak and chicken?" You asked and Santi nodded at you too. Anything to avoid Frankie’s eyes.

"We’ll go put the order in," Andrea said, leaning over and kissing Frankie on the cheek, not seeming to notice her husband’s preoccupation. She grabbed your hand and you gave Santi a wink before following.

Santi watched you walk away, appreciating the sway of your ass in your jeans. He shifted in his seat when he remembered what you were wearing under them. How you had sashayed out into his living room - wearing nothing but stockings, heels, and a garter belt - and walked over to his refrigerator while he was trying to remember what order breathing went in.

"Come here," he ordered and frowned when you laughed, passing out of his reach as you went back towards your room with a sparkling water.

"We don’t have time."

"I won’t take long," Santi promised, already pushing away from the table.

But you laughed again, backing down the hall and away from him. "I just wanted you to see what I was going to be wearing tonight. So you can think about it and what we might want to do later."

"I want to do it now," he growled, sprinting down the hall and then pulling up short when you closed the door in his face. When you came out twenty minutes later he had been expecting a dress. Maybe a skirt. What he was not expecting was you in a nice button down and jeans.

"I thought you were going to wear the stockings?" He asked with a disappointed sigh.

You smiled and took his hand, pressing him to your thigh. His fingers ran over the slight bump for a moment before he realized what he was feeling. He looked down in amazement but they were invisible, his only indication what his hand was telling him.

There was something about it that just set his mind reeling. There was no purpose to it, you were wearing it because you liked lingerie. And suddenly he thought back to every time he had ever seen you in jeans, wondering if you’d been wearing lace and silk next to your thighs then. As you left with Andrea he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on where the straps down your ass would be. Tracing the lines with his eyes and licking his lips unconsciously.

"Hey, pendejo, what did I say?" Frankie’s voice broke into his thoughts.

"What?" Santi tried to keep his tone level, ripping his eyes from you and turning to Frankie with what he hoped was a befuddled look.

Frankie wasn’t buying it. "I said don’t fuck my sister. That includes eye-fucking."

"Oh come on," Santi groaned, rolling his eyes. "I was just watching them leave."

"You were doing more than that," Frankie pointed at him. "She’s new in town and I don’t want her nursing a broken heart first thing."

"What makes you think I’ll break her heart? If we fucked it doesn’t have to be anything complicated." Santi made a point to emphasize the 'if'.

"Ahh," Frankie choked out, "you will not have my sister in-law as your fuck buddy man."

"She’s a grown woman," Santi finally snapped. "If she wants to fuck around with someone I think that’s her decision isn’t it?"

There was a long pause.

"Cabrón… you already did it."

Santi held his hands up, "Now Frankie it’s not what you think…"

"I think you did exactly what I asked you not to and fucked her."

Santi paused, glancing to the side for a second. "Okay, it’s exactly what you think but the circumstances aren’t-" He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, Frankie had shoved the table to the side and was coming at him. "Calm down it’s not-"

"I asked one thing of you, tu hijo de puta, and you couldn’t fucking keep it in your pants," Frankie growled and lashed out, catching Santi in the gut before he could duck away from the hit. Santi felt the breath leave him but he spun on the balls of his feet and caught Frankie in a bear hug.

"Hermano listen I-"

"Don’t fucking call me hermano, tarado," Frankie bit out, his elbow catching Santi and he was forced to let go.

"It’s not that big of a deal," Santi tried again. It was difficult to hold up his end of the fight when the thing he wanted most was to not be fighting.

"She’s too good for you," Frankie told him.

Santi’s hands dropped to his sides. "Well that’s a shitty thing to say."

Frankie raised an eyebrow, "You forget I was there when you were fucking your way through Syria with Blackwater."

"Oh fucking-a, man," Santi groaned. "I was twenty-eight and fresh out. You can’t hold that against me."

"I absolutely hold it against you," Frankie threw another punch, glancing off of Santi’s chin. Santi felt his head jerk to the side and he took a stumbling step back, catching himself on a nearby heating unit.

"What the fuck Frankie?"

Oh thank you sweet Mary, Santi thought, turning to see you and Andrea standing a few feet away holding a pitcher of beer and a set of glasses. He met your eyes and tried to let you know through telepathy that your little secret was out. He watched you rush over, setting the pitcher down and reaching up to tilt his face to the light.

"What the hell happened out here?" You asked, looking over at Frankie while you stroked your thumb along his cheek. Santi clocked Frankie’s expression and caught your hand in his, pulling it down. But Frankie saw it, and his eyes narrowed on Santi. The other man opened his mouth but his wife cut him off.

"Francisco Luis Morales," the glasses clanked as Andrea set them down, "do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?"

Frankie’s head whipped around to her, "What? No. Baby I-"

"Then what the fuck are you doing getting into a fight out here? And you," Andrea turned on Santi and he found himself standing up straighter. She pointed and Santi flinched, "Were you just going to let my husband beat the shit out of you?"

"Like he could," Santi snorted but when he caught Andrea’s expression he quickly schooled his features into seriousness. "No ma’am. I mean… yes ma’am?"

She glared at him before turning back to Frankie. "I’m waiting Francisco."

"Pope slept with your sister," Frankie blurted out, fingers spread wide as he held his hands out to her.

"I know," Andrea replied, arms crossed and ignoring his reach. "And?"

Frankie gaped at her, looking like a fish caught out of water and Santi had to hide a snicker. Your elbow jabbing into his side made him turn and glare at you but you didn’t look at him, just continued to stare at the couple in front of you.

"What do you mean 'and'?" Frankie spluttered.

"And… what’s your point?"

"Pope slept with your sister," he said it louder this time and Santi heard you groan and saw you cover your face with one hand.

"Tell me when this is over," you whispered to him.

"Wanna just sneak out?"

You jerked your head to his, "Can we do that?"

"No." Frankie and Andrea said the word at the same time, in wildly different tones. Both yours and Santi’s eyes snapped back to them.

"We are celebrating," Andrea said, poking her finger into Frankie’s chest. Turning, she put her hands on her hips, "Everyone sit down."

It was the same tone someone might use on a poorly behaved dog and Santi had to resist the urge to just sit directly on the ground. Instead he moved back to the table, nabbing the pitcher on the way. He noticed that you didn’t seem as phased by your little sister’s tone, giving her an eye roll before sliding onto the stool next to his.

"Here," Andrea passed out the glasses, taking the seat on the other side of Santi. "When Frankie gets his act together he can join us." She shouted the last part. Frankie was still standing a few feet away, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides and his brow furrowed beneath the bill of his ball cap.

"What gave it away?" You whispered in a low voice.

"You playing footsie with me under the table," he whispered back.

You scoffed. "Did not."

"Mmhmm," he hummed with a sarcastic raise of his eyebrows. "Said you couldn’t keep your eyes off me either."

"Oh please," Andrea laughed, filling his glass with the pale lager. "You two were obvious from the moment you walked in. Even if she hadn’t told me I’d have known."

"You told her?" Santi asked accusingly and saw you shrug.

"Of course I did. She’s my sister."

"Am I the only one who didn’t know?" Frankie grumbled, settling into the seat next to his wife and grabbing the pitcher, pouring himself a full glass and then downing half in one swallow.

"Yes," you and your sister reply in the same beat and Santi snorted, not bothering to hide his grin when Frankie glared at him.

"So this is-"

"None of your business," your voice cut Frankie off and from the jerk of his body his wife kicked him under the table at the same time. Santi raised his eyebrow at his friend and couldn’t resist a smug smile.

The evening passed uneventfully after that. He limited himself to one beer, knowing he would need to drive you back home, and laughed along as you and your sister tried to one-up each other with stories of your childhood. He kept an eye on Frankie, thankful when he saw his friend begin to relax, joining in on the playful ribbing and offering a few stories of his own.

At the end of the night he tucked you into his truck, buckling you in and smiling to himself when you stole a few kisses while he leaned over you.

"There you go," he said, patting your thigh, "safe and sound."

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, not reacting when he closed the door. He shook his head with a soft laugh and turned to walk around the truck and grunted when he ran directly into Frankie.

"Oh fuck, not again man."

Frankie glared, raking a hand along the back of his neck. "Just don’t hurt her okay?"

Santi closed his eyes for a minute, shaking his head. "I would never do anything to intentionally hurt someone. Not like that."

"I know," Frankie mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I’m not worried about what you’ll do intentionally."

Santi nodded. "I get you. I do. But whatever is going on, it has nothing to do with you." Frankie sighed and Santi held his hand out. "I’ll see you soon?"

Frankie took his hand and pulled him into a hug. "See you soon, hermano."

Santi let out a sigh of relief and returned the hug, following Frankie around the truck and giving Andrea a wave goodbye before climbing in and starting it. Your hand reached across and slid into his immediately and he gave it a squeeze, smiling at the soft look on your face.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked as he backed out of the spot.

"How Frankie was kicking your ass."

Santi scoffed, carefully checking the road before pulling out into it, turning his hand in yours and reaching across so they rested on your thigh. "Not in a million years. I wasn’t engaging."

"Sure you weren’t," you giggled. "I saw what I saw."

Santi rolled his eyes. "Believe what you want."

"Pobrecito," you cooed, turning in the seat. "I still think you’re tough. All… manly."

"You better," he let go of your hand to squeeze your thigh hard, hearing you squeak. "I’m all man for you."

You laughed, giggling to yourself as he pulled into his driveway. He pulled you over to him when he threw the truck into park, pulling you across the console and pressing his lips to yours while your laughter bubbled around him.

"You’re giggly when you’re drunk," Santi said with a smile, squeezing your thigh with one hand before letting himself out of the truck. He could see your lopsided grin and how you struggled with the seatbelt as he walked around the hood.

When he opened the door you tumbled out and into his arms, your hands fisting into his shirt. "M’not drunk," you protested, nuzzling your cheek into his neck.

"Mmhmm," he responded evenly, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you inside the house. "Sober as a nun. That’s you."

"I wouldn’t say that," you mumbled, cursing softly when your shoulder hit the wall. He muttered a quick apology and maneuvered you into the house with more care. He leaned you against the kitchen island, holding you steady with one hand for a second.

"I’m going to get you some water," he told you and waited for you to gain some semblance of balance before getting down the glass and filling it. When he turned back he found you were staring at him, chin propped on your hands, eye blinking slowly.

"You’re beautiful," you sighed, eyebrows drawn together.

Santi grinned and handed you the glass, leaning over the other side of the island. "Takes one to know one."

"No," you shook your head, taking a gulp of water and then setting the glass to the side. Earnestly, you took his hands in yours. "You’re like…. Really fucking beautiful. Gorgeous."

Santi felt heat rise on his cheeks and hoped he wasn’t blushing. It wasn’t every day the sexiest woman alive told you that you were beautiful. Even if she was hovering somewhere around tipsy.

"Your eyes. Your hands. Your mouth…." You sighed dreamily. "You’re so fucking hot."

Oh, well, this was nice. He knew he was reasonably attractive, he had a mirror and fairly good luck at bars. But it was still very nice to hear it said out loud. He opened his mouth to ask you more, see how long he could drag out this lovely moment of you stroking his ego, but your next words cut him off.

"Fuck, the things I’d let you do to me…"

Santi short-circuited. That was the only real way of explaining it. His heart stopped and every drop of blood he had rushed to his cock. He could feel his breath ghosting over his parted lips, his hands clenching on the counter. As he watched, you reached out and ran your thumb along his lower lip and then you fucking moaned, your eyes fluttering shut and he had the sudden flash of understanding that you were imagining it. Imagining this hypothetical list of things.

"Like what?" His voice was lower, raspier than he intended and your own lips parted when you opened your eyes.

"What?"

You looked lost, confused. Gently, he reached up and took your wrist in his hand. His fingers were long enough to easily encircle the fragile bones while he held you still and placed a kiss on your palm. "What would you let me do?"

He could tell the question was too much the moment it left him. You bit your lower lip, brows drawing together as you swallowed. He quickly reframed it. "What do you want me to do?"

Oh that was it, you melted, leaning across the counter towards him and he met you partway, brushing his lips along yours but pulling back when you tried to deepen the kiss. With the hand not holding your wrist he reached out, cupping your jaw and running his thumb along the arch of your cheek.

It was your turn to hold his wrist in your hand, to turn your face into him and press a kiss to the center. But you also flicked your tongue out, lips moving along him and drawing his thumb inside your mouth and Jesus fucking Christ sucking on it.

"Everything."

The word was muffled, mumbled around his thumb. The syllables stuck in his mind for a moment, skittering across the edges of his reasoning before settling into the space his question had left. He groaned, pressing down on your tongue. "Querida, I don’t think that’s an offer you want to make me."

You watched him, teeth scraping along the fleshy pad of his thumb as you pulled away and raised an eyebrow. Slowly, you pulled your hand from his and unbuttoned the first button of your shirt.

"I know what everything means Santi." Another button. "And when I say I want to do everything with you," another button and he could see the edge of your bra, lace cupping your perfect tits, "I mean it."

Santi was around the counter in a flash, hands pulling your hips flush to his, mouth slanting across yours. You barely had time to press your hands to his shoulders before he consumed you. Tongue stroking into you, walking you backwards until your shoulders hit the far wall.

You met him kiss for kiss, thrust for thrust, fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulders with a low moan. He gripped the edges of your shirt and pulled, listening to the buttons skitter across the floor before shoving the cloth down your arms and twisting the fabric in his hands, trapping your arms behind you.

There was no hesitation, no questions, you just leaned your head back and offered your neck to him and he raked his teeth along the soft flesh. "Everything?" He mumbled into you.

"Everything," you gasped in return.

He grinned at that, nipping at your collarbone, pulling down on your arms so you arched further into him. His knee shoved between your legs, pressing up between your thighs and he felt the jolt that went through you. How you shifted your stance so he pressed exactly where you wanted him to.

In his mind’s eye he could see it, see how wet you were getting for him. The way your thighs would tremble. The… fuck he’d forgotten the stockings.

He moved abruptly from you, spinning you around and forcing you ahead of him down the hallway and to his bed, not stopping until your thighs hit it and he could push you down face first. He let go of your shirt to work on your pants - noting that you didn’t even try to extricate yourself from his makeshift bindings.

Your pants and underwear came off together and he stepped back to admire the sight of you. The straps of the garter belt ran over the curve of your ass, taut lines to the black stockings you were wearing. Tilting his head he smiled and then bent to the floor, carefully setting your feet back in the low heels you had been wearing.

Oh that was nice. The heels made your ass tilt up, and he only needed to kick your feet apart to have your pussy bared to him. With quick movements he undid his belt, pushing his pants down far enough that he could release his cock. His fingers pressed into your dripping cunt and he clenched his jaw when he heard you moan his name. With his free hand he jerked your arms free of your shirt, he didn’t need it to hold you captive, quickly gathering your wrists in his hand and pressing them to the small of your back.

Head tilted back, eye closed, he pressed the head of his cock inside of you. Thankful for earlier communications that meant that he knew he could be skin to skin with you and not need to worry. Thankful because it meant he could lose himself in how fucking wet you were for him. How your cunt wrapped around him like a glove as he sank inside you with a loud groan of your name.

You had said you wanted everything and he gave it to you, holding your hip in one hand and your wrists in the other as he lost himself inside of you. This one was for him and him alone - he had plans for the evening and knew that you would not be left wanting - but right now, right now he needed to fuck you and he needed to come and he wanted you full of him when he-

He hunched over you when his orgasm washed over him, mouth trailing across your spine, holding your wrists in what must have been a painful grip but you didn’t struggle. Just arched your back so he sank deeper inside of you and whispered his name like a prayer. He stayed like that for a minute, letting your muscles work on him, feeling how you squirmed slightly beneath him as your body absently chased its own release. Finally he lifted himself, pressing his hips harder to you even as he felt himself softening.

"Do not move," he warned and slipped free, pressing your wrists down. He waited, watching to see if you would disobey but you didn’t. He staggered slightly when he crossed the room, his legs feeling weak from the strength of his orgasm. But he caught himself with one hand while opening the nightstand with the other, finding what he was looking for quickly. Turning, he tossed the pile of laundry from the chair in the corner and sank into it, spreading his knees wide and looking his fill of you. You remained bent over his bed with your legs spread wide in those stockings and heels with his cum slowly dripping out of you and your wrists crossed behind your back.

Fuck he was the luckiest man in the world.

"Come here," he said in a low voice, watching you tense and then slowly push yourself up. Your hair was disheveled, it looked like you’d already been fucked once which… fair. He crooked a finger at you and pointed at the space in front of him, between his legs. You sank to your knees gracefully, leaning your head against his thigh and closing your eyes and it was such a tender gesture his heart stuttered for a moment. He reached out and softly pressed a wayward bit of hair back across your temple.

"I’m going to fuck you again," he murmured and his lips twitched when he saw the slow smile crawl across your lips. "But you’re going to have to get me ready."

You nodded, opening your eyes finally to look up at him from under long eyelashes. "Yes."

"Good girl," he praised, pressing his thumb to you and opening your mouth slightly. With his other hand he lifted his limp cock and rested it on your plush lips. You pulled him in immediately, tongue swirling around the head and he bit back a curse at the sensations on his still sensitized skin.

He reached for one of your hands, pressing the object he had pulled from the nightstand into it. He smiled when you glanced at it and raised an eyebrow at him. "I want you to come with my cock in your mouth."

You moaned and he grunted, shifting lower in the chair so you could work him easier. From the corner of his eye he watched your hand move to between your legs, heard the soft click and then the gentle hum of the vibrator. He knew the moment you touched yourself - you sucked so hard on him he saw stars.

"That’s it," he sank his hands into your hair, "that’s it. Oh fuck yes."

His body wasn’t ready for another round but it didn’t really matter. Your mouth caressing on him felt like heaven regardless, watching you move and squirm as you brought yourself closer and closer to an orgasm. You whimpered around his cock, easily taking all of his softened length into your mouth.

When you came the back of your throat flexed with your muffled cries and he felt his cock stir. He held your mouth on him while your body writhed and you drove yourself as high as you could. The sight of you, the sounds you made as he grew harder in your mouth and you struggled to continue to take him, fuck he should have asked if he could film you.

You had said everything.

He groaned and pulled you from him, lifting you up and leaning forward so he could kiss you. Your jaw was slack, your mouth lazy as you returned his attentions.

"Can you make it to the bed?" He asked and grinned when you slowly shook your head. "Come on," he stood, lifting you with him and wrapping an arm around your waist when you sagged against him. "I got you."

He laid you gently in the middle of his bed, slipping your heels off and placing a kiss to the soft stocking covering the arch of your foot. Once you were settled he stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head, quickly shucking all of his layers until he was naked. His semi-erect cock bobbing slightly and he wrapped his hand around it and stroked himself while he looked at you sprawled across his bed. You looked ready to sleep and he lightly slapped the inside of your thigh.

Your eyes flew open and you gave a wide smile when you saw him. "C’mere," you hummed, holding your arms out and he slipped into your embrace. He gathered you to him, fingers tangling into the straps of your garter belt as he covered your mouth with his. He heard you moan when he pressed his cock to your thigh, your hand reaching down but he caught it, quickly rolling you fully onto your back and pulling your arm over your head.

"Give me the other one," he murmured, lips trailing over your neck. He adjusted himself when you pulled your arm from between your bodies, raising it up next to the other. Wrists crossed and arms loose. "Can you keep them there or do I need to tie you up?"

He didn’t miss the jump of your heartbeat, the way your breathing stopped for a moment or the low moan you tried to bite back. "I can keep them there."

Grinning he pulled away, sitting back on his knees and shaking his head at you. "I don’t think I trust you."

You arched your back, closing your eyes and making a soft noise that made his blood boil. He was off the bed and back with his belt in the space from one heartbeat to the next, kneeling near your head and leaning forward to wrap it around your wrists. You could get out if you wanted, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to give you something to fight against. Something to strain and pull on while he…

Your lips closed around his cock again and his chin dropped, hands fisting into the sheets. Looking down he could see how you twisted to take him, the blissed out smile on your face while you sucked on the tip of him - all you could reach. Cradling your head he held you still for a moment while he slowly slid forward, pushing into the back of your throat and feeling you choke. He pulled back just as slowly, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that had gathered at the corner of your eye.

He shifted down the bed, using one hand to wrap around your throat and tilt your head away from him, dragging his teeth down your neck. His other hand palmed at your breast, pulling at your bra until the material was pushed down and there was nothing to stop him from moving down and drawing your nipple into his mouth. He bit softly, then harder, feeling how you writhed under him and finding the pressure that made you gasp. He pinched your other nipple at the same time, pulling sharply and listening to you yelp at the stinging pain.

Shifting his body further over yours, he pressed his knee between your thighs, felt your wetness smear across his skin. His mouth shifted to the other nipple, soothing the pinched flesh with his tongue before biting it as well.

"Santi!"

He chuckled, grinding his leg up into you. "We’re barely into everything, querida. Do you want me to stop?"

"Never," you sighed and his heart flipped over in his chest. He lifted himself so he could kiss you, running his hand down and snapping your garter against your thigh. When you yelped he grinned and slipped his hand beneath it, massaging your skin.

"I said I was going to fuck you," he growled in your ear, nipping softly at the lobe. "But it seems like maybe you don’t want me?"

"I want you," you said immediately, turning your head and pressing your lips to his. He returned the kiss, moving his hand so it rested between his thigh and your cunt. His fingers slipped into you with no resistance.

"Are you sure?" He teased, lightly playing with your clit. "You haven’t changed your mind?"

"Santi," he pulled back at the seriousness of your tone, eyes searching your face. Your arms lowered, bound hands coming to rest behind his neck and he could feel the edge of his belt on his skin. "Please."

"Beautiful lady," he whispered, nuzzling his nose to yours. "I’ll give you everything."

He shifted his body, sliding his cock inside of you slowly, his forehead pressed to yours. He swallowed as you stretched around him, biting his lip and moving his arms beneath you to hold you close. The lace at the top of your stockings scratched against his thighs when you wrapped your legs around him. He was as bound as you were, held tight by your legs on his waist and your wrists behind his head, sinking down into the warmth of your body.

A soft puff of air caressed his lips and then your mouth touched his in the lightest of kisses. Moaning to himself he rocked into your body, licking at the seam of your lips and tangling his tongue with yours.

He had said he was going to fuck you but you were proving him a liar. He was making love to you, his body worshiping at the altar of yours, laying down everything he had as an offering to you. He wanted to do more, touch caress and stroke your body - but he would have to move from your embrace to do so. Move from the warmth and softness of you and he just couldn’t make himself. Instead he changed the angle of his hips, dragging himself along your clit while he pressed into you in long strokes.

Your breath caught in a tiny gasp and he dropped a kiss to your throat. He whispered sweet nothings to you. Telling you how beautiful you looked, how well you were taking him, that he was in danger of falling desperately in love with you. He made his confessions in Spanish, the words falling onto your skin and settling there even as your muscles clenched and you held him tighter and cried out his name in a long broken sob while you shattered around him.

Your orgasm triggered his own and he groaned when he spilled inside of you, coming so hard he blacked out and sank his weight down onto you without thought. He barely felt you shift, changing the position of your arms so you could card your fingers into his hair. You pressed a light kiss to his temple.

"You would be a very easy man to fall madly in love with Santiago Garcia," you whispered into his ear and for the first time in a long time - the thought doesn’t frighten him.

[freddie-weaselbee]

Real//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, I think that’s it ?

Summary: One small favor. A trade. That was all it was. Mutually beneficial! Until things between Fred and Y/N and their new relationship get a little more complicated and cause too many prying eyes. 

Prompts: Fake Dating with dialogue prompts “we could have prevented this!” and “did you know you talk in your sleep?”

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: Day 3 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

 “I’ve made my list of rules which you will abide by and under no circumstances will be broken. Number 1: this ruse does not leave the shop. I don’t want random people on the street questioning me because you couldn’t keep your huge mouth shut. Number 2: I will allow you to kiss me on the cheek and forehead as  often as you like, within reason of course, and you can give me a peck on the lips 3 times in total. I will keep track. And Number 3: Don’t take up the entire bed any more or I will be forced to push you onto the floor. Sound good?”

“Bloody hell, you are crazy aren’t you?”

“Just a little bit.”

Fred was starting to regret his previous decision of making this arrangement with you, but a jingle of his shop bell and glance at who was walking in quickly made those feelings disappear. 

“Deal,” he said, eyes not leaving the woman who had just entered. “But we start right now and I want one of those kisses.”

You looked up at your friend, confused at his sudden nerves before you followed his line of sight and understood immediately. You sighed and ruffled your hair a bit, looking for a mirror to fix your makeup. “I’m on it, give me a few minutes.”

Fred nodded, still watching his target walk slowly through the aisles of his store. As she turned a corner you ducked into the back office, waiting for a good time to reemerge. 

“Freddie!” A high pitched voice pierced through the ear, equal parts flirtatious and absolutely unbearable. Fred glanced up, pretending not to have noticed the girl before. Putting on a fake smile, he set down the product he was pretending to tinker with and placed his hands on the counter table. 

“Brooklyn, hi! How are you?” he asked, hoping his fake politeness would pass as genuine. 

“Ugh I am so good. So SO good actually,” she said, twisting a finger through her hair. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you! I’m so glad you received my letter, I was hoping we could catch up, maybe over dinner sometime? I’ve had so many fine young men ask me out over the last few months, but none of them seemed to compare to you, my little Freddie Bear.”

He winced at the nickname, it bringing an onslaught of unwanted memories that he had desperately tried to forget. Brooklyn bit her lip and placed a hand on top of Fred’s, leaning in to accentuate her breasts and make sure Fred got a good whiff of her new perfume. 

Very calmly, Fred placed his other hand on top of hers, now sandwiched in between his strong grip. “Brooklyn,” he said, faking sympathy, “you’re a lovely girl, and I’m sure any guy would be lucky to have you, but--”

“Hey, love!” 

A voice interrupted Fred’s rejection, making a very surprised Brooklyn become absolutely enraged as she witnessed you come up and place a chaste kiss on Fred’s lips, smiling into him. Fred pulled his hands from Brooklyn’s grip and placed it instead on your hip, pulling you into him and placing another peck on your forehead. You both stared lovingly into each other’s eyes before a harsh cough stole your attention. 

“And who is this?” Brooklyn asked, arms crossed angrily. She was glaring daggers at you, not even trying to fake sweetness for Fred’s sake. 

Keeping his hand on your waist, Fred turned back to the girl who seemed as though she was about to explode. “That’s what I was trying to tell you Brooklyn,” he said, trying to keep his smile as pitiful as he could without it drawing suspicion. “This is Y/N, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

You nuzzled into Fred’s chest for half a second before reaching a hand out to Brooklyn. “It’s so nice to meet you! Brooklyn, was it? I don’t think Fred’s ever mentioned you before, are you one of his childhood friends. Cousin, maybe?”

That had done it and you and Fred both knew it. He subtly fist bumped you under the counter as you watched the girl’s face become redder than Fred’s hair. 

She opened her mouth before taking a huge breath and stepping back. “No, actually,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m his ex-girlfriend. I left him to move on to much better things. Speaking of which--” she flipped her hair and smoothed out her skirt, straightening her posture to try to keep what little dignity she had left, “--I actually have a date. With a dragon trainer no less, and a very renowned one.”

“Oh really?” Fred asked. “That’s amazing. My brother, Charlie, is a dragon trainer as well, and he’s very well known in the community. May I ask the name of the lucky young man? Maybe Charlie knows him.”

Caught very off guard, Brooklyn rolled her eyes and turned to face the door. “That’s none of your business. I better be going, before we’re late to dinner at a very nice place, somewhere the likes of you most likely couldn’t afford.”

You felt Fred stiffen next to you and you squeezed his hand gently. “Have a nice time! It was lovely to meet you Bridget.”

“It’s Brooklyn,” she seethed. 

“Oh right, silly me,” you said, shaking your head. “Bye!”

As Brooklyn sauntered out of the store, you turned to Fred and whispered seductively, just loud enough for the exiting girl to hear. “How about we have a nice night in tonight? I got something the other day that I’d love for you to see. Maybe after seeing it you’ll make me scream even louder than last night.” Fred’s face began to grow red and he had to discreetly adjust his pants, hoping you didn’t notice exactly what your words were doing to him. 

Brooklyn slammed the door and practically ran down the cobbled streets, only screaming when she thought she was far enough away to not be heard. You and Fred both waited a few seconds before cheering and hugging each other, him patting you on the back for a great performance. 

“Y/N! That was incredible! I knew I could count on you.”

“Yeah yeah,” you said, “I’m amazing, I know.” You smiled up at him completing the high five he was waiting on. “When you told me you needed help with a crazy ex I didn’t know you  meant like actually crazy. She’s insane! How did you put up with her for so long?”

Fred shrugged, jumping up onto the counter. “She was hot and I was horny. Not much else to it.”

You rolled your eyes, jumping up to join him. A few days ago you wouldn’t have been nearly comfortable enough to lounge out on the shop’s counters like you were now, but that was before you were a permanent resident of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Before you and Fred had made the deal. 

“You want me to do what?”

“Please, Y/N, it would only be for a little while until this all dies down, I swear!”

You groaned and rubbed your temple, wondering how in the world a friendly visit to your friend’s shop would turn into something with much more commitment. 

“You’re telling me that you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Why on earth would you need that?”

You were pacing around the shop, trying to avoid customers as to not involve them in this very personal conversation. Fred followed you, pleading for you to help him like the great friend you were. 

“I told you,” he said, “after The Daily Prophet did that expo on the shop and made me and George out to be rich sexy businessmen, and I mean where’s the lie, all of my crazy exes have been sending me letters and trying to get back with me. I can’t stand it, there’s so many!”

“Yeah, you were never one for long-term relationships, were you?”

Fred hmphed but quickly picked up with his pleading once again. “You don’t understand, Y/N, it’s absolutely unbearable. It’s common knowledge that George and Angie have been going steady for years now, so he’s got pretty much no one after him. But me? I can’t handle it.”

He dramatically threw himself on one of the empty product tables, causing a couple kids to glance in your direction before quickly becoming distracted by one of the exploding jokes across the shop. 

“Oh, woe is me, I have too many beautiful women throwing themselves at me, whatever am I to do?” you mocked, earning a nasty glare from your friend. 

“I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t of upmost importance,” he said, straightening his tie and assuming a more business-like manner. “Those girls are crazy. Hot, yes, but crazy. And all you have to do is pretend to be dating me for a few weeks, a month at best! What do you say?”

“And what do I get out of this?” you asked. Usually, you’d never say no to helping a friend, especially Fred, but pretending to date him and having him practically use you to make other girls mad? You didn’t like the idea in the slightest. Well, maybe seeing the mad girls would be a bonus. You never cared much for most of the girls Fred went out with. 

Fred’s face turned into an upward grin as he rolled his sleeves up and leaned forward. “I was hoping you’d say that. I hear that you’re looking for a place to stay, is that right?”

You nodded hesitantly, having an idea of where he was going. 

“Well,” he said, pacing back and forth, “to keep up this charade we’ll need to convince everyone, including George and Angelina. You see, Angie’s friends with Alicia, one of the girls who’s been constantly OWLing me, and if she knew this was fake then she’d blow our cover for sure. Which means…”

You gulped. 

“You’d have the pleasure of sharing the loft with me. You’d get a room, shared with me, and a nice living space all rent-free, and all you have to do is act all lovey-dovey and occasionally snog me. That sounds like an offer you can’t refuse.”

Unfortunately, he was right. You were tight on money at the moment and really had no other options. It was a deal you had to make if you wanted to stay afloat, no matter how much annoyance and embarrassment it would cost you. 

Sighing, you let your shoulders slump, a sign of defeat. “You do know how to negotiate, don’t you?”

“Well I am a businessman.” Fred stuck out his hand, and with a slow, drawn out motion, you shook it. 

It was the 4th night of living with the Weasley twins, or maybe 5th? The nights all seemed to blend together as you’d been having more fun than you had since Hogwarts. George and Angelina didn’t seem surprised at all when you and Fred told them your made up story about how you and Fred started seeing each other. In fact, they both said they always knew it would happen. You and Fred shared a laugh about that in bed that night, before he decided to take up all of the space on the small piece of furniture, prompting you to write your third rule. 

Overall, it had been a great experience. Couples game night, movie marathons, gossip sessions with Angelina about you and Fred’s sex life (which you didn’t have to fabricate too much, you already knew too much from the incredible amounts of detail he used to provide about his dates with other girls). It was like being thrown back into a dorm room, and your old teenage self was starting to shine through again. 

You stared at yourself in Fred’s bathroom mirror, very proud of how you handled Brooklyn earlier that day. She was one of the few girlfriends of Fred’s you never got to meet, probably because they only dated for a short period of time before she left him for the first rich snob to bat an eye at her. Out of everyone you could think of that he dated, she was by far the worst, which meant the next few days would probably be more difficult. It was easy making that bitch angry with smoke coming from her ears, but you didn’t know how good you’d feel about lying to someone a lot nicer than she was. 

After brushing your teeth and donning your pajamas, your Hogwarts house colors of course, you crawled into bed and joined Fred, who was reading one of the novels you had recommended to him. “You like it so far?” you asked. 

Fred took off his reading glasses and nodded, setting a bookmark in the book before placing it on his nightstand. “Surprisingly, yes. I didn’t think it would be my thing, but so far it’s actually really good.”

“Told ya,” you said as you laid down beside him. You and Fred were comfortable enough to share a bed with few problems except for his stupid long legs. You’d been friends for years and had grown way too comfortable with each other, so squeezing together each night wasn’t too out of the ordinary. 

As you snuggled into the covers, Fred following suit, you mentally went over the schedule for the week. 

“How many girls are there again?” 

Fred paused for a moment, trying to remember what he had sent to each girl. “A few I was able to ward off via letter, the more sane ones, but there are still two more girls who insisted they pay me a visit. Addison’s coming tomorrow and Alicia the day after that.”

You nodded, although you ducted Fred could see it from his position. “Got it. Addison’s sweet, I liked her.”

Fred scoffed, wrapping an arm around your waist as he had started doing while you two slept. It was nothing more than platonic, Fred was just a touchy person. You told yourself he would do this with any semi-attractive girl laying in his bed. 

“Yeah, sweet girl all right, until you come home to your entire apartment torn apart cuz she thought you were cheating on her because apparently you ‘took an extra 12 minutes of lunch break and it seemed awfully suspicious.’”

Your body reverberated with a small giggle, remembering how Fred had to crash with you at your old place while he was trying to replace all the furniture she had literally torn up. “That’s right, she’s almost as crazy as I am.”

“Almost.”

You wouldn’t have a hard time lying to Addison, you decided. It was actually kind of fun when you did it with Brooklyn. You could get really creative with this one. 

You released a deep breath and closed your eyes, nestling back into Fred as he spooned you, claiming it was the only way he wouldn’t sprawl out and kick you in your sleep, which you knew was a lie. He’d find a way to kick you somehow. The git always did. 

------------------------------

“That was surprisingly better than expected!”

You nodded gleefully, handing Fred a scone and coffee that you had picked up from a nearby bakery. Scaring off Addison had been even more fun than Brooklyn, you and Fred really getting into character and being as lovey dovey as possible. She seemed to take it well, but you wouldn’t be surprised if she triggered the security system tonight trying to break in and destroy the shop. 

“And if I’m being honest it was actually kind of fun,” you told him, settling in behind the counter. 

You raised your muffin to your mouth to take a bite but Fred’s huge mouth snagged a taste before you could, bending down and taking a chunk out before you could have any. “That’s disgusting,” but you had no disgust lingering in your tone. 

“I agree,” he said through mouthfuls of muffin. “It was an excellent way to spend the morning. Bloody hell she would not leave!”

“At least she was nice about it.”

Fred reluctantly agreed before making another move to your muffin, one that this time you anticipated and you swatted his nose with a nearby newspaper. “You have your own, you greedy pig.”

He yanked the paper from your hand, using it as a napkin before the front page caught his eye. He quickly crumpled up the paper and tossed it into a nearby waste bin, something you wouldn’t have been suspicious of had he not done it so nervously. 

“Fred, what’s in the paper today?”

He shifted to put himself in between you and the wastebin, his tall figure looming over you. “Not important, just more junk that no one cares about.”

You didn’t believe him for a second. “Frederick Weasley you move this instant.” You tried pushing him out of the way but it was like moving an annoying ginger stone wall. Trying another approach, you darted to the left before doubling back and running right, but before you made it two steps he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. “Fred!”

You wiggled with all your might and finally made it out of his grasp, snatching the paper and unfolding it to read the headline. 

Diagon Alley Playboy Finally Settling Down? Or Is Y/N L/N Just Another of Fred Weasley’s One Night Stands?

The color drained from your face and you slowly lowered the paper, reading the front page again and again. Attached was a blurry picture of you and Fred from the day before with you tucked into the side. The buggers at The Daily Prophet must’ve caught it through the store window. 

“I’m sorry,” Fred said softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I tried to keep things quiet, but I guess the press always finds a way in.”

You rubbed your temple slowly, trying to ignore the dread in your stomach. After seeing Harry Potter be brutally torn apart by the press for years, the last thing you wanted was rumors about you going around. 

"We could have prevented this!” you exclaimed, slamming the paper onto the desk. “This is complete bullshit. We’re not even dating! I swear I’m going to march straight to their office and--”

“Don’t bother,” Fred said, completely exasperated by the constant coverage of his family. “It does absolutely nothing, trust me. As a close relative to a professional Quidditch player, The Chosen One himself, and his two best friends who literally saved the world, we’ve learned that nothing will keep them away. Especially since they pinned me as the player of the Weasley family.”

“But you’re not!” you said, getting angrier by the second. “So your relationships don’t last long, so what? You’re not some womanizing piece of shit that the papers say you are!”

Chuckling, Fred replied. “I know that, and you know that. But the rest of the world wants drama, so if they want to think I have a new girl in my bed every night I’ll let them.” He shrugged. “You get used to it after a while.”

“Well you shouldn’t have to,” you grumbled. “You’re one of the best people I know, and the world should know it too.”

Catching you off guard, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your torso and a head lay on your shoulder. “It’s ok, love, just one more day and then you can stay out of the papers forever, I promise.”

Sighing, you turned to face him and let a small smile shine through. “Thanks. But I still think it’s absolute rubbish what they’re doing to your character.”

“Me too, but at least you know what a charming and caring gentleman I am and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Aww,” you coed, “you love me don’t you?”

“Shh, don’t let the press hear! It’ll ruin the image they worked so hard to create.”

You hit your head against Fred’s chest. “Only one more day of this. One more to go.”

------------------------------

“Do you know you talk in your sleep?”

“What?” You were so busy trying to find something to wear that you had barely heard what Fred said. 

“Last night, when you fell asleep. You said something funny.” He was sitting on the bed, adjusting his work tie and pulling on his socks and shoes. He looked...confused. Like he was trying to solve a complicated problem and he just couldn’t git the pieces together. 

“Oh?” you said, growing nervous. Had you dreamt last night? You were racking your brain, hoping you hadn’t said something embarrassing. 

You definitely had a dream, and Fred was there. You were at the shop...and Alicia came in! And…

“You were saying ‘Alicia, no, Fred’s mine not yours, I love Fred,” and umm, other stuff like that.” His face was heating up by the second, as was yours. 

“Really?” you said through awkward laughs. “Must’ve been preparing for today, huh?”

Fred said nothing, instead choosing to focus on retying his shoes. 

“Well,” you said, finally picking out your outfit, “I’m going to change, I’ll meet you down there later, ok?”

He nodded, still confused, and you rushed to use his bathroom before things could get more awkward. 

You decided to take a nice, long shower to cool down, hoping that you could somehow wash away the embarrassment. So maybe you had a slight crush on Fred. Who could blame you? You’d been spending the last week cuddled up with him and spending so much time at the shop, not to mention acting like a couple in front of everyone. Who wouldn’t develop feelings?

But for some weird reason you had a feeling that this wasn’t a recent crush, rather something that’s been lurking right beneath the surface for a while. You groaned, hitting your head against the shower wall. This was not the time for this. You had a job to do, and Alicia would be here in 30 minutes so you had to hurry up. 

Scampering down the steps 15 minutes later after using a drying spell and getting dressed, you stopped in your tracks when you saw what was happening across the shop. Alicia was here early. 

From the looks of it, she had already made herself comfortable, leaning in to talk to Fred, who wasn’t doing anything to discourage the behavior. Instead, he was leaning in as well, laughing at a joke she just made. 

Fury burned inside you as you watched the scene unfold. You knew from the beginning that Alicia would be the hardest ex to deal with. Not only had she been Fred’s longest and most intimate relationship to date, but she was also a really nice person, meaning you had no reason to hate her. But at this moment you did. 

Alicia leaned closer, her nose almost touching Fred. What should you do? Did he want your help getting rid of her? Was he still harboring feelings and actually looking to reconnect? You saw him slowly lean in toward her, which you took as a sign to continue with your plan. 

You were almost running when you reached Fred, who turned and seemed happy to see you. “Just in time,” he said the Alicia, “Alicia, you remember--”

You cut him off with a kiss, the third kiss you’d promised him. Except this one wasn’t one of the pecks you described on your terms and conditions. You pulled Fred down into one of if not the most passionate kiss you’d ever had, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer to you. 

Almost immediately he pulled off of you, looking more bewildered than you had ever seen him. “I…”

“Well that was quite the spectacle.”

You looked over to where Alicia was standing, smirking at the two of you. Contrary to what you had expected, she actually seemed rather calm and actually amused at what she had just seen. 

“S-sorry,” you said. Fred tried to say something but he was too dumbstruck to even get a word out. He just stood there, eyes wide and mouth twitching. 

“Is this a bad time?” she asked. “I’m supposed to be meeting my fiancé for breakfast later so I can just come back another time if that works for you.”

“Your...fiancé?”

“Yeah!” Alicia beamed as she showed you her left hand, her ring finger adorned with the most beautiful engagement ring you’d ever seen. “Actually, the reason I’m here is because I just asked Fred if he wanted to be in the wedding as a groomsman. Or bridesmaid. Whatever works for him. Thankfully the big oaf said yes before you laid that on him, or else I think I’d be waiting a lot longer for an answer.”

Fred was still as frozen as ever, making you and Alicia chuckle. “Hey, it’s been forever since we’ve caught up, how about you and Fred go on a double date with me and Lee sometime?”

It took you a second to understand why Lee would be there, until it dawned on you. “You’re marrying Lee Jordan?!”

She couldn’t hold back her laughter at this, loving to see your reaction. “That I am! You’re obviously invited, I’m sending invitations out soon. I’ll hope to see you there, and don’t be afraid to reach out, alright?”

“Y-yeah, will do,” you said. Alicia looked up at Fred and then to you and winked, before waving goodbye and leaving the shop. 

You refused to make eye contact with Fred, too embarrassed to even begin to talk to him. Maybe you’d just take 5 and take a walk down the street? That would help distract your brain from whatever just happened. 

“Real?”

You turned around to the source of the voice, a now more interactive Fred. “What?”

“Real,” he repeated. He shook his head a few times, blinking rapidly. “Sorry, I just mean, that kiss was umm, it was real.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. The fact that you had kissed Fred, and an actual kiss at that, was finally hitting you. “Yeah, it was real, I guess.”

He took a step closer, his face assuming the puzzled look from the bedroom earlier. “Was...was what you said real too? From the dream, I mean?”

Now it was you who was frozen, feet stuck to the ground with no way out. What should you say? Confess your feelings and hope for the best? Or deny everything and try to work your way around this mess? You didn’t have time to think nor ration. Just act. 

“Yeah. It was real.”

Fred nodded, pursing his lips and shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Cool.” He hesitated. “Would it be super crazy out of the blue if I asked you to maybe go out with me sometime. For real?”

A smile rose to your face, hoping that this wasn’t a joke. Slowly, almost shyly, you nodded. “Yeah, it would be a little crazy. But I’d say yes.”

Fred smiled too, a big toothy grin that only made you smile wider, before pulling you into a side hug. “Good, because you’re a little crazy too, so we’ll match on our date.”

“You’re a big dork,” you said, returning the hug. “What will the paper say when they see you with the same girl? They’ll probably explode!”

“I hope so,” he replied as he gave you a loving squeeze. “What I’m worried about is how we’re supposed to explain to George and Angelina that we’ve been faking this whole time and it’s only now getting real.”

“Eh, that’s a problem for another time. Right now, we’ve got some more pressing matters.” You gestured to the front window where a reporter was holding a huge camera, trying to snap a good picture of the two of you. 

“I’ll handle it, grab me the dungbombs.”

“Yes, sir!”

You ran to assist Fred, head rushing with thoughts of first dates and future ones down the road. Of attending Lee and Alicia’s wedding together and getting completely wasted with each other. Of sleeping together each night, holding each other in an embrace that was now true and deep and caring. In a relationship that was now real. 

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

[writingforyourpleasure]

I have a thing for Car wash

Genre: NonIdol!AU, SummerJob!AU

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: You do car wash as a summer job each year. But this year , 7 new employees are added to the mix.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

A/N: Thoses Butter's concept photoshoot are gonna be the death of me ...

______

Summer’s Job never been dreamy or appealing you always preferred to stay home and play games or hangout with your friends.

You were doing the same summer job from your high school’s years throughout your UNI years, this year was the last year where you could work at the same gas station you usually spent your summer’s at. You were quite happy about this news because your work there wasn’t really enjoyable to say the least.

You were working as car washer.

The staff was limited to you and Gladys. Gladys was an Australian grandma’ with an heavy accent and a loud voice.

You used to complain about the underpaid job and understaff issue to her each year , but even if she tried her best to pay you more each year, the problem of understaff was remaining.

Plus you had the marvelous advantage , note the irony, to be a woman. So of course you had some guy every now and then asking you for some porn kink including cars and water to you.

And of course as soon as you dared to say to them that it was not respectful of them to ask for such favors , well their ego feeling insecure will make them insult you ‘til Gladys will come out and try to dissolve any trouble. And if they didn’t leave… well then Tallulah will come help you out. Were Gladys was a true perfect cottage core granny , Tallulah her spouse, was a weightlifting Olympics coach. So she was , massive and looked very frightening.

But since she was often occupied most of the time Gladys would have to do the trick , and if too much persistent she would call her little brother Jeff a policeman always coming in and out of the shop to check on things.

It was nice, for a summer or two, but seeing as it’s been years since you were first introduce to this summer’s job to say it became painfully annoying was an understatement.

And this year would be the same…

Or so you though.

Gladys finally took your complains about the car wash job being understaffed and recruited a few people to help out .

When she said a few, you though she was talking about 2 to 3 people.

But no, no non no no no. Gladys took in 7 people !

She promised you your check wouldn’t take any damage by the presence of those new employees , but you sincerely doubt that.

And of course you’ll have to show them around and proceed to show them how to wash a car because of course it’s not like anybody could know how to do it by themselves.

You were moody when that tons of information’s felled down on your head, but now finding yourself in front of the 7 new employees changed everything.

Apparently Gladys misspelled car wash job for model’s photoshoot coz’ those 7 boys were for sure way too beautiful to need a car wash job.

It had to be a prank, right?

So being more self aware in what you’ve been for years you showed carefully those men of to do the job. And no it wasn’t cute or sexy, far from it.

You were dressed in your yellow hoodie and black jogging with flip-flop.

For once you wished you had were those fucking shorts looking like panties more than anything, and a crop top or something similar, like all those freaks watching too much porn often asked you to.

But no , and those guys were dressed in matching outfits in jeans and whites tee.

Even if they were very dreamy swoon over , you had more pressing issues to think about.

Like why one of them started a water fight with another one, and putting a stop to it before one of them put soap into their eyes.

“Okay guys!!! Please stop …? I don’t want to have to report you to Gladys on your first day okay? So keep that behavior for when you’re on your own okay?”

“Sorry , we didn’t meant to …” Said one.

“Huh sorry to interrupt , but none of us seems to have catch your name earlier ?” Said the guy with blue hair.

You liked his hair, it was nice, like blue waves , more darker on the edges and lighter on the center of his scalp. He had such beautiful eyes too, so sharp an-

Oh god , wait did you really lost yourself by admiring him?!

“Huh miss???”

“Y-Yeah !!! Haha my name’s Y/N !” You extended your hand , losing your mind for talking in a higher voice to him , good job at not being suspect Y/N….

And you hated yourself even more for being awkward by presenting your hand to him. But he, on the other hand sensed your discomfort and made your move seem completely normal shaking your hand lightly and giving you a cute smile showing off his dimples.

“Namjoon,…. And those two are Jungkook and Taehyung, and I hate to be the one breaking it to you but we’re probably gonna have a hard time keeping them calm.”

“Oh… Okay” You just ended , looking to the two guys involved in the previous water fight, and looking back to Namjoon’s face. He was calm and put you at ease. Hargh you were staring , good job on not being a freak Y/N .

The one all covered in jean from head to toe approached you, and ever so silently spoke to you.

“Hate to be a bother Y/N, but can I have a bucket to wring out my sponge, please?”

“Huh Yeah of course huh-hu….”

“Yoongi’s the name…”

“Oh huh well yeah let me get that from Gladys to you okay I’ll be back in just a sec Yoongi.”

He nodded very calm much to your dismay as you were starting to feel anxious about advising Gladys for more employees, maybe you should have just shut it.

You entered the store who basked in a sunny light as the morning was starting to begin for most of other people’s in the city.

At the register was one of the new employees, he wore a plaid skirt and converse’s with a white thee and jean shirt. You couldn’t believe how gracious his lips draw themselves on his face. They looked pillowy and as dreamy as the six other’s man out there waiting for you.

“Huh hello ? You might remember me from earlier ? Y/N the foremost employee?”

“Of course I do you’re the sweet mango! “

“I’m sorry what ?”

“The sweet mango ! The color of your sweatshirt look alike a mango!”

“I-I Yeah it does…”

“Would you like another nickname maybe? I’m sorry if this one doesn’t fit your style haha. What about little mouse ?”

“Do I look like a little mouse ?”

“No ,you look like a fucking rat”

Said another voice coming from behind you.

“I beg you pardon?”

You turn over to the masculine voice behind you to find yourself facing a chest. Your eyes flew up to the face of the stranger, ready to take down any bratty client. And you were surprised to face a smiling shit eating brunette man glancing down at you . He was snickering and looking at you like he was mentally undressing you with his eyes.

“Yah ! Jin ! Don’t be rude to our new friend!”

You look down to the content in his arms, some sandwiches squeezed between bottles of water.

“Wait your on job duty ! Why aren’t you with the others ?” You started to take over yourself and focus on your task, keeping everything organized.

“Some of us forgot to bring our lunch to work this morning , so I volunteered to go for it , but you’ve been blocking the line too preoccupied to talk to mister big flirt over there.”

He gestured at the cashier.

“We weren’t flirt-“

“You totally were!” Gladys interrupted you coming out from the back of the shop with several boxes of energy bars .

“Gladys I would ne-“

“Don’t lie to me girl ! Okay Jimin go fill up the shelves with those and Jin , you’re lucky you have a nice face, it’s on the house for today so go back to work will you now?”

“Sure thing Gladys! Thank you so much !” He offered her a wink before smirking down at you , going back to his devices.

“AND SHE DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A RAT! BUT YOU SURE TALK LIKE A BRATT!!!” Shouted Gladys at Jin, while a girl was approaching him to take care of her car and asking for his number. He was a blushing mess and Tae had to intervene to talk an eligible sentence to, the poor lost girl, after that.

“Now, Y/N what do you need sweetheart? I mean other than Jimin’s number of course?” She had said it loud enough for Jimin to hear it and bringing a cute smile on his face content of his accomplishments.

“Gladys please stop. “ You warned her with a tired face. She maybe looked old but she was fearless for sure .

“I need extra buckets for the boys, please.”

She leaved the register for what felt only two seconds before bringing over 5 extra buckets for you , to share.

“Thank you , you’re a life savior!”

“I know , should have started a sect when it was trendy.”

You left laughing to her dumb joke , but not before quickly glancing to Jimin. After that event you formed three distinct groups between all of you to get their heads in the game.

But with Jimin busy with helping out Gladys around the store, one of them was standing by himself.

“Okay since your alone I’ll help out for today.”

“Really? Thank you so much I was worried I’ll found myself alone when everyone’s having fun in groups.”

You looked around to indeed found them more busy playing around then actively work in silence .

“Yeah well normally having so much fun isn’t part of the job but I don’t want to kill the mood.”

“I’m Hoseok by the way but you can call me Hobi ! “ He said with a heart shaped smile.

“Y/N. Haha did you had to see Jimin assigning you a nickname too?”

“No this one’s for my crushes .” He said glancing up at you with stars shining eyes behind the comfort of his sunglasses.

“Yah! Hobi Does it mean I’m one of your freaking crushes?!” Yelled a not-so-speechless Jin , across the parking lot.

“Why don’t you come found out ?!” Yelled back a way too enthusiast Hoseok.

The day went by pretty quietly apart from those 7 agents of chaos you were stuck with from now.

Lunch came around pretty quickly and you all went to the back of the shop to have your break there , enjoying the nice breeze of the fan, while chatting.

“So , how come you’re all working here this summer?” You asked between bites of your meal.

“My aunt knows Gladys and told me she was recruiting , and since I was in need of a job I took it.” Said Jimin looking at you oh so charmingly.

“I have a thing for car wash.” Said Jin like it was completely normal.

“Your such a weirdo something hyung I swear… I was in need of a summer job saw the flyers by the campus and thought why not ? Here I am.”

Replied Jungkook slowly slurping down his noodles.

“We wanted to prove some sexist asshole that , no it wasn’t , a job only reserved to women.” Said a disgusted Namjoon swallowing quickly his part of the sandwich.

“I want to be a social entrepreneur.”

Said Taehyung leaving you with wide eyes.

“How is that related to bein-“

“If I succeed to make this place a rentable place from just the car wash then I could do anything.”

“And how would you do that ?” asked Jin dismissing his lunch to look over at Taehuyng.

“What about a photoshoot?”

[myloversthesunrise]

but in your sacred air i am full of light (vii)

Lin frowned at his answer. “Are all faeries of higher standings usually High Faes?” “Pretty much,” Rhys snorted. “Why?”

chapter: i. never be rude to a faerie | ii. never give them your true name | iii [a ghost from the past] | iv. faeries cannot lie | v. faeries cannot lie [ii] | vi. never make a bargain with a faerie | vii. [the dreamers, hopeful]

warnings: none

word count: 4283

notes: AS USUAL I'M BACK WITH A LATE UPDATE :'D!! i know I've said sorry a lot but in my defense I've been doing my thesis and i have to finish it before the end of January so :/.. ANYWAYSSSS (1) i'm trying to write faes and humans as 2 creations of the same creator so please don't think of them as siblings, (2) milliona's name is inspired by the latin name of moth so please appreciate it because i spent 20 minutes on moth research even though the scare the shit out of me. as usual, feedbacks, comments, anything are very welcome and if you notice any plothole on my history of creation, feel free to point it out!! i hope you'll enjoy it <33

It wasn't until a few days later that Lin managed to find a clue.

That evening she was groggily eating her dinner and tuning out the conversation that was happening around the table. She had just earned three lashings on each arm from not properly mopping the floor and the young woman was not in any mood to talk.

Fortunately, her tablemates noticed her gloomy spirit at left her alone after making sure that she would be alright and made her promise that they would visit the infirmary after dinner. They tried to make her leave before dinner but Lin relented, and eventually, they agreed to visit it after dinner instead, seeing that it was not a serious wound and the sulking girl was too hungry to have her dinner interrupted.

She could feel someone sitting down next to her, and a fur brushed against her cheek.

Wait..

Fur??

Lin immediately jumped away and stared at the faerie that just occupied the seat next to her. Her head shot up to stare at the presence next to her and her eyes widened in recognition.

It was the moth faerie she had seen a few days ago.

The one that was greeting their man in front of the door.

They wiggled their fingers in greeting as Lin continued to stare agape at her. The latter awkwardly nodded in reply before returning her gaze to her food.

"Lin!" Edith exclaimed from the table across her. She looked up and see the ginger nodding her head towards the faerie next to her. "Meet Milliona. Milliona, meet Lin."

Milliona beamed at Lin and offered her hand. Lin tried her best not to flinch at the fuzz and offered her a tired smile in reply before accepting her hand and shaking it.

"They live one floor below us, under my hall." Edith shortly explained before going back to her food.

Lin silently "Ohh"ed and nodded in reply before going back to sulk at her food.

"So," Edith continued after swallowing her food. "Tell us all about him!" she squealed.

Next to Lin, Milliona ducked their head sheepishly giggled in reply. Lin had a feeling that if Milliona could blush, they'd be red as a tomato.

The young woman took a glance at Milliona from the corner of her eyes and watched their reactions as she pricked up her ears while waiting for their reply.

"Oh it's nothing," Milliona waved her hand and tried to hide the victorious smirk on her face. However, no one had paid any attention to her smug expression.

Because everyone's eyes were glued on the huge ruby ring on her finger.

Lin could hear the table gasped collectively. Even she felt her eyes widen in shock and took in a sharp breath.

Edith quickly leaned over and grabbed their hand in excitement as everyone on their table (including Lin herself) leaned in to study the gem closer.

It was a big jewel considering their low positions and lower wages, nearly as big as a grape. The red ruby glinted against the torchlight and the candlelight above them, decorated by smaller diamonds around it to emphasize the color and beauty. Lin could feel everyone staring in envy and wonder at the gem while Milliona's puffy chest puffed out even further than it already had, fur and all.

"He proposed?" Edith enthusiastically whispered loud enough for the table to hear, her green cat eyes glittered with excitement.

"Not yet," Milliona teased with a smirk to their lips. "It was a promise ring," they explained. "He promised he'd propose as soon as he's finished with his current task."

Current task?

If the ruby didn't have Lin's full attention, Milliona's last words definitely earned it.

Lin was about to ask them who this fae was and went straight to the point, but she decided against it.

She gently took Milliona's fuzzy arm and wowed at the ruby—loud enough for the table to hear—and gave it a long envious glance that everyone could see. "You're really lucky," Lin baited Milliona with praise, hoping that the faerie would take it.

"He must be rich," she gently let go of Milliona's fuzzy hand and hoped that none of their fuzz was stuck on her own hand.

The latter sighed dreamily as they gracefully took back their hand from the display. "Only the best of the best," Milliona purred haughtily before they began to dig into their food.

Oh?

There was absolutely no way a General or even a Lord's secretary would make them act like this, Lin thought to herself. Their man has to be someone even higher than that.

A Lord or his son? she mused inside her head. Perhaps even the High Lord's sons?

From what she had heard, nearly all the High Lords were eligible bachelors. But Lin doubted very much that someone as powerful as them would go for someone in their rank, no matter how beautiful they were.

So that left the High Lords' sons and personnel and their family, which happened to be their Ministers and Lords or Ladies. Both of them directly report to their High Lords, but Ministers would take care of the administration and regime while Lords and/or Ladies would take care of the land or a region of their court.

Not every court has Lords and/or Ladies. Some only have Ministers, like the Autumn Court and the Winter Court. Summer Court used to not have them too, but about a century ago they recently adapted to this way of governing their land.

Judging by the way they acted, Milliona must have pulled in someone from the Ministry or the Regional Lords and Ladies.

Perhaps even a High Lords' son, Lin quietly thought to herself as she remembered the prideful way Milliona had carried themselves, how silky reddish-brown color of their lover's hair looked like under the torchlight and the ring he had worn in one of his fingers.

Lin suspected that he was someone from the Autumn Court before brushing off the thought away.

Just because someone has an Autumn-like coloring doesn’t mean they’re from the Autumn Court, she scolded herself.

“Any way you can introduce me to his friends?” Lin blurted out before she could stop herself.

The entire table paused their activities and glanced at each other uncomfortably. Edith looked like Lin had just punched her in the guts, while Milliona had haughtily turned up their nose as they stared at Lin from the tip of her hair and down to her stomach that wasn’t covered by the table she was sitting on.

Lin could've sworn their lips curled up into something like a ghost sneer before they sweetly answered “I’ll do my best.”.

The black-haired woman smiled back at them before turning her lips into a sneer that could match the moth-fae’s own when they turned around to chat with their friends.

Rude, she mouthed to herself grumpily as she chewed down whatever’s left of her dinner.

Later on in the evening, Edith comforted her friend.

“Don’t think too much on Milliona,” she said from the next stall as the ladies washed with a bucket of hot water and a wooden water dipper. “They’re really nice, I promise. But ever since they get a new male they’ve been...” Edith trailed, not wanting to badmouth her own friend.

Lin nodded in understanding before realizing that the feline faerie couldn’t see her.

“They’re always been obsessed with love and romance, you know.” Edith continued her story amidst the splish-splash noises of her rinsing her own body. “Those stories where the female gets her swept off her feet by a prince charming who’d treat her like a queen, they loved it. And I guess now that they’ve found their prince charming, it got onto their head.”

Must be nice to have your dream come true like that, Lin enviously thought to herself.

She would give her left foot in exchange for a prince charming to sweep her off her feet and bring her back home right there and then.

“Do you know the man she’s dating? Lin asked Edith as she toweled herself dry. Not a second later, the young woman cursed herself for using the word ‘man’ instead of ‘male’.

“Nah,” Edith answered from the stall next door. Lin thanked every gods out there that they were the only ones who decided to wash their bodies this late into the evening.

“They’ve always been hush-hush about it,” she could hear Edith pouting from the chance of missing a juicy gossip. “All we know is that he’s from the Autumn Court, and that’s it.”

Well well well, she mused. Who would’ve thought that a redheaded faerie would come from the Autumn Court?

“Do you know anyone from the Autumn Court?”

The female’s question caught Rhysand’s attention and the fae felt his body tense up as soon as the question reached his ears.

“Perhaps,” he answered ambiguously without looking up from the fire he was building. “Why?” The unlikely pair had chosen to camp inside the entrance of the tunnel, as it was drizzling out in the evening.

Lin was trying her best to resist her yawns and kept pinching her own arm every five minutes to keep herself focused and awake. Her full stomach, clean and freshly bathed body and the soft pitter-patter of drizzling rain did nothing to help.

“One of the servants is sleeping with someone from the Autumn Court,” she continued. “Someone from the Higher-Ups, I think.”

She could only see his side profile, but Lin could feel Rhys rolling his eyes at her answer.

“Everybody sleeps with everyone,” he grumbled. “I’m going to need something more specific than that.”

Rhysand leaned back and sat near the female, but kept his distance so he could watch her back as she could watch his. He watched as she furrowed her eyebrows and glared deep into the fire as if trying to remember something.

“He was wearing a ring on his thumb,” she remembered after a few moments of silence. “A golden ring. I couldn’t any insignia or gem on it—I was too far.”

His eyebrows rose up to his forehead.

Only Beron’s sons would wear a golden ring on their thumb. Their heirlooms. It was a custom of their Court that any sons of the High Lord of the Autumn Court would wear a golden ring on their thumb and the daughters would wear it on their index finger. Any other nobilities weren’t allowed to do it, but they were allowed to put as many rings as they want on other fingers except their thumb and their index finger.

Rhysand used to think it was a ridiculous custom, but now he thanked whoever invented it.

“You saw them?”

Lin nodded with bleary eyes. “Before we met a few nights ago when I was sneaking out,” she explained but seeing Rhys’ expression turned sour she quickly elaborated her story. “I didn’t know he was important!” Lin defended herself while holding her hands up in surrender, her eyes defensive. She lowered down her hands before she asked the fae cautiously. “Is he?”

Rhysand quickly explained the tradition to Lin. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed her hand moved to pinch herself hard in the arm. His lips turned downwards into a frown as he watched Lin twitching her lips hard before exhaling loudly through her nose. Rhysand noticed her bleary eyes and how all the tension she used to have in their past meetings seemed to leave her body.

Is she... holding back her yawn?

“Wow,” Lin answered when he was finished. “No wonder Milliona was so snobby about their ma—male.” She quietly patted herself on the back for correcting her words. “They got a prince.”

This time, Lin couldn’t resist the temptation and let out a quiet yawn behind her hand.

“Unlikely,” the fae near her answered curtly. “This is a tradition that’s only taught to the Higher-Ups, especially High Faes. Perhaps words spread to the lesser faes, but I highly doubt it would spread much.”

Lin frowned at his answer. “Are all faeries of higher standings usually High Faes?”

“Pretty much,” Rhys snorted.

“Why?”

The faerie turned his head towards hers and propped up his chin on his arm. “Don’t you know your own history?” His eyes were curious and one of his eyebrows was raised with his question.

His question took Lin off her guards and made her flinch back as if he just jabbed his fists in front of her face, like boys in her village used to do to scare each other and see who would flinch away.

And she always flinched away.

Do faeries know another history that mortals don’t? She asked herself in panic.

“We—Well,” Lin spluttered nervously. “When the Mother created the First Children, they were twins. Not born of the same womb, but created from the same force and chaos. Equal in magic and power.”

Seeing Rhys’ curious eyes trained on her, she continued her story and hoped that both sides of the wall had the same history lessons as each other.

“But the Mother couldn’t differentiate them, so they gave the elder one a pair of pointed ears and longer limbs,” her heart beat so loud that she was worried Rhys could hear it from across her.

“One day, the younger one grew envious of their twin so they plotted to murder their twin.”

Lin cleared her dry throat, regretting that she forgot to bring some water with her.

“However, they couldn’t do it because they loved their sibling so much, but their resentment was too deep to be buried away.”

The drizzle outside had turned into rain and the fire between them slowly, but steadily, began to dim out. Accompanied by her voice and the occasional crackling of firewood, it was a rather pleasant moment for Rhysand.

“So the mortal twin pushed the faerie into a well and closed the well with a giant rock.”

“When the Mother came to visit her children, she knew where her oldest child was located. But still, she asked her youngest one in hope that they will confess their crimes.”

“But the youngest one turned their head away and replied ‘How am I to know? I am not their guardian.’”

The female pulled her arms closer and scooted forward into the fire before rubbing her hands above the orange light. Rhysand noticed her shivering and reached behind him for another firewood and gently put it down on the flame.

Lin let out a shudder when the warmth finally spread from her hands through her arms and the front side of her body before continuing her story.

“Their answer angered the Mother who quickly left the youngest one to save her oldest child. When she saw them, they were skin and bones.”

A rumble of thunder was heard from outside—as if following her beat to make her story even more dramatic.

“The creator was even more furious, and in her rage, she punished her youngest child and robbed them of their magic and that the world she had created for her children would turn their head away from the youngest one. She shunned them away and coddled her maltreated child instead.”

“After she had calmed down, the Mother had realized her mistake. She went to her youngest to apologize for her anger, but it was too late.” Lin took a gulp of her saliva before continuing their history.

“The youngest child had turned their back on their family,” she said. “The Mother was very saddened by this, but she realize their forgiveness was something she cannot force nor create.”

“As an apology, the Mother helped the youngest one by letting the world help them prosper, but still barring them of magic, seeing that they were still wrong for what they had done.”

“But the Mother saw how lonely her children had become, and realized it was far too late to make them mend their broken relationship.”

Sometimes, Lin wondered how it would feel to have someone you love yet unable to love them. She knew some of the families in her village were like that, having separated parents or estranged relatives that severed their bond from a fight or a petty argument.

She wondered if it would be as lonely as she thought it to be.

“So she created their own people, to accompany them and help them nurture the land their Mother had created for her children.”

“And that’s how the mortals and the faeries were created.”

Lin finished her story with a nod, but the faerie across her only stared at her with his violet eyes before propping his chin with his other arm and nodded back, urging her to continue her story.

At this point, her throat was parched and her lips were dry enough to the point she was actually tempted to scoop her hands and let the rainwater pool in her hands for her to drink.

“And then there was something something about faeries befriending some magical creatures and turning them into faeries, something?” Lin trailed. This time, it was her who raised her eyebrow at Rhys in question, hoping that the faerie across her would elaborate on the story.

If she tried hard enough, she could tell it to Rhys. She still remembered what had happened between those creatures from her history class, enough to convince him.

But alas, her throat was drier than the chicken she had for dinner and it was time for him to talk.

Rhys rolled his violet eyes in annoyance before folding his hands in front of him and beginning his story.

“The faeries saw the creatures that had helped them so much and wanted to give a gift back in return,” he started. His eyes noticed how the female reached out her hands to warm them up above the dancing flame.

Rhysand wordlessly moved his hand behind him and grabbed another firewood he had stacked earlier before gently putting it inside the flame.

“So they decided to turn these creatures into something like them, a faerie.” He continued.

“They thought that they were Mother’s favored ones. What could be a better gift other than becoming like them?”

Across him, the female stretched out her arms—cracking her shoulder joints—before continuing her stretch to her neck and tilting it to left and right, creating an even louder cracking noise.

Rhysand grimaced at the sound.

“But one of them feared that if they gave more magic to these magical creatures, they would become too powerful and overthrow them from the top of the food chain.”

“So they chose the non-magical faunas to transform,” he continued.

“The animals,” Lin continued while nodding, trying to blink the sleepiness away from her eyes.

Her people had only known them as animals instead of ‘non-magical faunas’.

It’s not like there are ‘magical faunas’ back at home, she thought to herself.

“But as powerful as the faeries were, they weren’t powerful enough.”

Despite the rain that kept going on outside and entrancing her to sleep, Lin frowned at his sentence and straightened her posture.

She remembered this part in her history class, and how it played over and over and over again inside her head.

If Rhys noticed her attention, he didn’t show it.

“Their spells were... disheveled, and they couldn’t control the chaos like their Mother did,” he explained while making some gestures with his hands. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, and Lin paid attention to every single moment.

“So the transformation they planned did not live up to their expectations.”

Lightning flashed before their eyes, bright enough to blind Lin momentarily before a thunder clapped resoundingly, causing the young woman to jump in fright.

Rhysand stopped his story and stared at her frightened expression with a blank expression on his face. However, his eyes gave away the slight concern he had for Lin.

The female across him only stared into the rain outside, as if she was trying to see where the lightning had landed while rubbing her chest to comfort herself.

From the corner of her eyes, she noticed his attention.

Lin turned her head back to the faerie across her and Rhysand quickly controlled his emotions before she could notice anything. She nodded in affirmation without saying anything loudly, but Rhysand could see it in her eyes.

I’m fine, it’s nothing to worry about her eyes told.

He nodded in reply and continued his story.

“Well,” he began. “The animals rejoiced. They became so alike to their friends, and they could communicate just as the faeries did.”

“The faeries, however, could not see their ‘friends’ as anything more than animals.”

Before Rhys could finish his story, Lin had opened hers to ask him a question.

“But it’s unfair isn’t it?” she asked, her furrowed eyebrows showing that she was upset.

“They didn’t ask to be changed, but now that the faeries had changed them, they were shunned away?” Lin argued while crossing her arms.

Rhysand rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Well, it’s not like I was there.” He dropped one of his arms and used one to lean on and prop his chin.

The female dropped her arms and her face turned serious. She leaned into Rhysand, as if trying to tell him a secret.

“Can’t you do something about it?” she implored.

Gone were the annoyance and sassiness in her expression and tone, replaced with a soft, gentle look that Rhysand would even say as pleading.

Rhysand dropped his arm and sat up straight.

“The fuck do you want me to do?” he scoffed.

Lin leaned back in defense after getting her reply.

“Well,” she spluttered. “You look rich.”

Rhys only stared at her wordlessly and Lin began to fidget with her skirt in discomfort.

“So I thought that maybe you could,” her voice lowered into a mumble. “Pull some strings or something.”

Her head was lowered and her eyes were cast on the floor. She could feel Rhysand rolling his eyes and sighing exhaustedly.

“Do you really think one man can bring a change to an entire realm?”

Lin dared herself to look up after his impartial answer to her request and saw the faerie massaging his forehead. She had heard the exhaustion and hopelessness in his voice, how it sounded like he had given up on having the chance of doing something good.

“A change has to begin somewhere,” she answered while straightening her spine and lifting up her chin. “No matter how small, how little impact that it has.”

“As long as we give it our best, we still have hope.”

Rhysand turned his head and stared at Lin’s starry night eyes. He had seen the confidence in her spine and heard the faith in her voice. But most of all, he could see the unwavering conviction and hopefulness in her eyes unlike his own.

He took in all of that and tried not to think the lowered heads of Illyrian females back at home. He tried not to remember how Keir or any of his cronies had turned up their noses at the sight of Illyrian faeries. He still recognized the arrogant sneer of High Faes every time a lesser fae came upon their sights.

Warmth began to pool in his chest and spread through his body. His stomach began to flutter, and he could feel the strength and passion he used to have slowly returning into his body and powering him up.

He was not alone.

There was someone else, who believed in a better world for other faeries to live in. Someone just like him a long time ago, who still had hope and dared to dreams to help those who cannot fight for themselves.

His violet eyes stared deeply into her starry night ones, and Rhysand saw the dreams and hopes he used to have inside her eyes.

Rhysand could feel an ache to his heart, almost like an invisible hand gripped it tightly.

He could still dream. He still had hope.

He was not alone.

Such simple words from her had given him so much hope, and he tried not to think of the heartbreak it would be if his dream let him down one more time. He tried not to imagine her starry night eyes that would turn into starless night ones if her dreams fail, dark as the abyss and full of hopelessness.

Instead, he held on to the hope she had reached out and gripped it tightly with his hand. Like his life depended on it. Like it was the only rope that prevented him from falling back into the abyss of despair and hopelessness.

He was not alone.

“Well, Lin the dreamer,” he drawled out. Somewhere between her last words to him and now, he strangely seemed uplifted. Like a dying man who had finally found an oasis in the desert. He had straightened up his spine, his violet eyes shone even brighter. His lips curled up to a delightful smirk and Lin found herself holding back her breath at the beauty in front of her.

“Let us finish our plan first before we change the world.”